When She Returned
by Saltrova
Summary: "I don't believe you." His eyes remained closed, unwilling to allow reality to intrude. "You should." Her lips brushed his ear. "Lie." His eyes drew open as he felt her auburn curls running along his skin like silk. His fingers tangled in them, tightening to pull her closer. "Not this time," she promised. "What about the next time?"
1. Chapter 1

HE could barely remember her name. But the sheets were still warm from her body heat, a welcome difference. His bed had been cold for the last couple weeks. Other than an answering smirk in the face of her shy smiles as she quickly pulled on her clothes, he hadn't moved at all since she'd woken up, dressed and left. Her floral sent still lingered in the air. He'd have to change his bedsheets.

Jon finally rose to his feet and stretched, his lean muscles tightening, before ambling to the connecting bathroom. He turned the shower spray to the maximum and zoned out, letting his mind wander as the cold water saturated his dark brown hair and sluiced down his face. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his hips, covering the lower half of his toned body.

Once he was dressed in a button-down burgundy shirt and dark wash grey jeans, he headed downstairs. The living room was empty, the air cool from the low setting of the central air unit. The thick black curtains added to the coolness as it blocked out the imposing sun.

Movement came from behind him, shifting the stillness of the air although the silence remained undisturbed. Robb was back. Trying to sneak up on him. As if he could.

"Jonny Boy, long time no see?" The words shattered the silence.

Even though he couldn't see the face belonging to the voice behind him, he could hear the smirk in her tone.

Sansa.

He spun around in an unbridled response to hearing _her_ voice, his head spinning and heart in his throat. The pair hadn't met since their failed relationship left him bleeding on his knees. _Three hundred years ago._ He quickly schooled his features, burying the longing in his grey eyes; tearing his heart off his sleeve and hiding it away.

"What are you doing here?"

A woman of auburn hair and light blue eyes stood before him. "Big brother couldn't turn me away." Sansa shrugged as she advanced toward him, a seductive sway guiding her slender hips. "And, I missed you."

"Save it, Sansa." He huffed at her soft purr, and turned away, striding toward the oversized black couch, widening the distance between them as she paused in the center of the dark grey room, studying him. He'd been down this road too many times, and it always ended in heartbreak . . . for him.

A smile forming in the face of his rebuff, Sansa persisted. "Come on, Jonny, do you think I would come back to this dead town just to play games?"

"Playing games is all you ever do." A bitter taste seeped into his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. "I needed some distraction. You sprung up a proposal on me. I panicked. I can hardly apologize for that." She pouted at him.

Jon glowered at her. "Panic gripped you for the past three hundred years?"

Sansa sighed, her arms crossed. "Fine. Be moody." Her gaze swept the dark grey walls, black furniture, and solid wood flooring of the living room, before her focus returned to Jon. "I'm going to take a shower." A naughty grin spread over her face. "Want to join me?"

Jon rolled his eyes. "No, Sansa, I do _not_ want to join you." He ignored the tiny voice in his head protesting otherwise.

"Suit yourself." She shrugged, shooting him another impish grin before disappearing up the stairs.

Jon released a sigh as soon as she vanished out of sight. Three centuries later and her hold on him remained strong. Her voice both a dagger that tore him apart and the sweet magic that healed him.

He knew very well there was no point in fighting against Sansa's apparent wish to make herself at home. Yet simply waiting around for her to emerge from the shower, damp and dripping, was more than Jon was willing to bear. He grabbed his keys and quickly ditched the premises entirely, to prevent any sticky situations.

The black Audi blinked to life as he entered the three-car garage. He pressed another button and a click sounded as the driver's door unlocked. Jon threw the door open, the force vibrating the frame of the car. Flashing was easier, but he needed the extra minutes to think. The wind roared in his ears, pushing in through the open windows and snatching at his hair as he slammed on the gas. Outside the window, trees rushed by in a blur, seeming to disappear as the car flew down the road.

Despite the sprawling area his home encompassed in the heavily wooded outskirts of Winter Town, he was routinely able to cut what should have been an hour drive into town into a fifteen minute hurtle.

Winter Town's welcome sign came into view and Jon gradually lightened the pressure on the gas. He parked his car in the lot next to the post office and headed for the main streets. The forest hovered in the distance, rising up over the low-rise buildings.

The town square boasted neatly paved sidewalks, lined with mom-and-pop stores run by descendants of the original owners. A tiny bar, a small movie theater, and a modestly-sized shopping mall were the greatest sources of entertainment—and were always guaranteed to be overflowing as soon as schools and work let out. All three held little appeal for him. His only plan when he'd left the house had been to put distance between him and Sansa.

Daenerys—whose last name he never cared to remember—appeared in his line of sight as he stepped into the town square. A promising distraction.

"Hey, you," Jon said, falling into step beside the elflike blonde.

Daenerys barely suppressed her groan of disappointment and quickened her pace. "Really, Jon? You have nothing better to do than to be a nuisance? Ugh!" She entered the two-level fully enclosed mall and he trailed in behind her. She spun around, glaring at him with violet eyes that seemed to beam lasers. "Leave. Me. Alone."

Jon didn't regret his reputation among the town's college-aged female residents: "Mr. Heartbreaker", "the bed 'em and leave 'em guy". Some girls were happy to make their way into his path. Others, like Daenerys, actively avoided him. His habit of constantly teasing her might have played a role in her displeasure at his presence. But with so little to do, Jon couldn't deprive himself of having some fun. He could always start a clean slate . . . soon.

"But we just started having fun," Jon chided her.

"No, _we_ are not having fun, _you_ are having fun being a nuisance!"

"Don't be such a buzzkill, Daenerys." He strode ahead, dodging some giggling teenagers as he gazed around the carpeted lobby at the different shop outlets; their brand names displayed in bold, bright letters above the entrances. "What are we buying?" he asked.

"Ugh!" Daenerys pushed past him, the muted burgundy carpet swallowing her footsteps.

Jon smirked. It was so easy to get under her skin.

Daenerys darted through the first level of the mall, weaving between the other shoppers. She gritted her teeth whenever she turned to find Jon keeping pace behind her, before ducking into another outlet.

Jon played her constant shadow. She was a fellow student that he shared several classes with in the town's single community college. The type that spent the entire lecture whispering and sending texts, but somehow still managed to pass.

She beelined to the escalators, wiggling between a middle-aged couple and a preteen texting on her phone, before starting up the moving staircase two stairs at a time.

"Hey," Jon grinned from behind her as she checked to see if he was still there.

"Get lost," Daenerys groaned. She entered a shop with a display of beachwear in its windows, spending minutes studying every little detail of the selections as she moved through the different racks at a snail's pace. "This is cute," she muttered to herself, picking out a pink two-piece swimsuit.

Jon shook his head. "Bad idea."

Daenerys' gaze shot to him. "Really? Or are you just being a jerk again?"

"You can wear it if you want people to laugh at you." He waved a hand dismissively at the swimsuit. "It's your choice."

"Screw you," Daenerys snarled. She kept the bikini she'd chosen, and continued on her search. After spending some time silently traveling from shop to shop, the silver-haired girl paused between clothes racks to turn and look back at Jon. "If you're going to stalk me, you might as well be useful. Hold these," she said, reaching for him with an armful of clothes.

"Yeah, I'm done. Clothes shopping isn't my thing, except if I'm going to be ripping it off." Jon mockingly saluted, then left an amusingly frustrated Daenerys without another word.

The day seemed to have grown brighter as he stepped out of the mall, the sky had turned a blinding blue. He felt around his clothes, checking if he'd tucked his sunglasses into one of his pockets, but the only lumps he felt were his keys and his phone. With a shrug, he headed back toward the parking lot, maintaining his trademark smirk as he strutted through the narrow, tidy streets, despite the vicious rays of sunlight beaming down on his cool skin.

Though his last proper meal was some time ago, he'd fed recently enough that the sun wasn't yet a danger. As a vampire, he would have been perfectly content spending a thousand years without encountering another miserable sunny day. Winter Town's selling point was its cloudy days and cooler temperatures; it never rose above eighty-five degrees, even during the most punishing days of summer elsewhere. After taking a moment's shelter in the shade of a building, he retrieved his phone from his pocket, and texted Robb—his best friend and sidekick for the past four hundred years—a short message:

Get home. NOW.

Robb needed to get his dead ass home if Jon and Sansa were to face each other again. Only with Robb serving as a buffer did that event seem feasible. Then again, perhaps Sansa had brought home some entertainment to pass time and wouldn't even notice Jon's presence . . . or lack thereof.

He tightened his jaws. He wasn't chasing after her anymore. That was over. It was just too bad he wasn't done loving her. If Sansa confessed she still loved him and was ready to rekindle things from where they'd left off, Jon would cut out his dead heart and hand it to her in a human heartbeat. He'd loved her for four hundred years. He would never stop.

* * *

Jon arrived back at the hulking stone mansion and squared his shoulders before entering. He bared his teeth at Robb as soon as he saw him.

The fucker had the nerve to return his death glare with a careless grin.

"Why?" Jon growled.

Robb raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Easy buddy, I couldn't just refuse my sister shelter."

"You could," Jon disagreed. They both knew it was empty words.

"Just stay out of each other's way and everything will be fine," Robb cautioned.

Sansa's playful seduction flashed in Jon's mind. "I don't think she got the memo."

He gritted his teeth at Robb's minimal display of sympathy. "Sansa will be Sansa."

 _Sansa will be Sansa_. Didn't Jon know that better than anyone?

Sansa's games had enthralled him at first, during their early days. Back then he'd been a twenty-one-year old student of astronomy. Life sucked, and he was searching for a bigger picture and purpose beyond his existence as an abandoned boy forced to work for a wealthy family until he'd finally went off to university at eighteen.

While out camping, he'd stumbled across a mysterious, auburn haired girl with eyes as luminous and pale as a blinding summer sky, and lips as red and tempting as the apple that damned mankind. Or at least he thought she was a girl, until she attacked him; her ankle length powder-blue and white lace gown a bright blur of color rushing toward him and throwing his world into a reality that suddenly failed to make sense.

Robb had appeared like a bolt of lightning, dragging his sister away, urging her to control herself. In his urgency, he'd forgotten to wipe Jon's memory of the attack.

Horrified but intrigued, Jon had returned later, searching for the pair.

His reckless bravery piqued Sansa's interest, or maybe he had simply amused her, but she'd kept him around. Before the year let out she transformed him—to Robb's horror. But Jon had been more than willing to leave his human life behind and dedicate his existence to Sansa. And she'd allowed him. Until he had wanted more.


	2. Chapter 2

THE room was as quiet as a prey with its throat ripped out, apart from the occasional sound of distress. Rows of students sat with their eyes glued to the white paper in front of them. Professor Nan pinned Jon and Robb with a glare as the duo entered the classroom for their advanced Age of Discovery History course in the community college.

"Grab a paper and take a seat." The professor's sharp voice cracked the silence.

"Do we have a test today?" Jon raised an eyebrow at Robb.

"Shit. I think we do." Robb grabbed the paper from the professor, and Jon followed suit, before the two made their way to the back of the room.

Jon's hand moved of its own accord, writing out elaborate answers, divulging details and facts. Professor Nan had given him variations of this same exam for the last three decades. Although she was unaware of that little fact. Every four years, Jon and Robb erased any memory she had of them in her class. Every four years they had to erase the memories of a lot of people.

Winter Town was such a small town, most of its three thousand residents lived here all their lives, digging their roots deeper and deeper into the hard soil. People would notice quickly if two of their residents failed to age throughout the years.

And now there was a third resident to consider.

Sansa.

How long was she staying?

How much havoc would she cause before growing bored enough to leave?

Jon slapped down his pen, the first to finish.

Robb dropped his own, half a breath later.

Jon shook his head at his friend, a grin tugging the corners of his mouth. "Too slow."

"Still finished in less than a minute." Robb flicked his pen at him.

The two made short work of altering Professor Nan's memory, as they placed their completed exams into her slack hands.

"We finished the test a few minutes before class dismissed, then left." Robb's irises glowed a dark red as he uttered the instruction in a low tone. His words seeped into her brain, writing over the actual events with a false memory.

The professor's blank gaze didn't break from his as she nodded, repeating the instruction in a monotone mumble.

Jon patted her arm. "Good girl, Nan.

They repeated the process with the blank gazed students—releasing a vibrating hum that drew everyone's attention at once, connecting all of their minds on the same wavelength, so even while gazing into one person's eye, the instruction worked for everyone—before slipping out the door.

The noisy halls were a contrast to the tomb-like classroom they left behind, filled with college students laughing, strolling, and lounging. They navigated their way through the warm bodies, and although he was resistant to the lure of an uncovered neck, Jon couldn't help but to tease Robb.

"Man, I'm hungry," he said as they passed a group of gossiping girls.

Robb's head swiveled sharply, a warning buried in his midnight pupils. "Let's go," he simply said, and grabbed Jon's arm.

Jon waited until they were outside, with the sun sending a thousand needles into his skin, before he jerked himself out of Robb's grasp. "I need to feed soon. The sun is starting to affect me." For vampires, human blood was more than just a source of food. It also kept their skin warm and their tolerance for the sun high. The longer they went without blood, the further their body temperature and sun tolerance dropped.

For the past few weeks, they'd eaten small animals—appetizers—but how long can one last on such nibbles? He was getting hungry and cranky. The light snacks weren't enough to satiate his hunger.

"We'll leave town soon and find some food." Robb, five centuries older, was better at enduring long stretches of time on measly squirrels and such.

"A midnight snack where the criminals are roaming. I fucking hate fur on my teeth." Jon ran his tongue along his teeth, as if he could already feel tufts of fur stuck between them.

"Classes are almost out. We can't leave before the semester is over. People will notice."

Jon released another growl, not bothering to protest. "Another four years almost up. Another fake graduation. It's almost time to erase ourselves from their memories again."

"Does it bother you when we alter their memories?" Robb asked.

"No." Jon brushed off a fly that landed on his shoulder.

* * *

Sansa reclined on the oversized sofa, auburn curls spilling over her shoulders in waves. A come-hither gaze twinkled in her light eyes as Jon and her brother entered the house. "The boys are back," she greeted.

"Hey to you too." Robb kissed her forehead then sped out of the room before she could hit him. A shadow of a smile played across her lips as she wiped away her brother's kiss, before the affection in her eyes was replaced by a blank slate as the room fell into silence.

Jon picked up a newspaper and stood across the room; his eyes studied Sansa cautiously over the top of the page

She didn't spare him a glance.

"When am I off house arrest? When can I go outside?" She buffed a nail with her thumb, seeming to refuse him more than the most necessary of attention.

"Sansa, this town is too small for you to just show up amongst the townspeople without us introducing you," Robb said, entering the room again. "Jon and I will take you to the bar this weekend."

Her sigh sounded like steam released from a pipe. "You two are becoming as boring as humans. I bet you don't even take a bite out of these people every now and then."

"Of course we don't," Jon snapped.

Her gaze—finally—shot to him. "How good you are, Jonny. How perfectly boring."

Jon clenched his jaw and a slow smile spread across her face as his fists tightened around the paper, tearing it in half.

Now that she had elicited a reaction, her voice was silk. "You know, Jonny, we don't have to listen to my goody two-shoes brother. We can find some dishwater college girls to snack on. Which of your classmates should be first?"

"Daenarys," Jon answered, his thoughts consumed by the intimacy melting in Sansa's azure eyes, and the soft conspiracy of her voice.

 _"JON!"_ Robb roared.

Jon blinked. "It's just a joke." His eyes found Sansa's and she winked at him, before he shifted his eyes back to Robb's furious ones. "Sansa didn't really mean it."

"Of course I didn't," Sansa purred, her voice too silky to believe.

Robb's eyes burned holes into Jon's skin before he started pacing. A thousand thoughts seemed to follow him around.

"I'll leave you two to your brooding," Sansa said, rising from the couch. "'Brooding is bad for my skin." She flashed them a smile before heading upstairs.

The moment she was shut behind a bedroom door, Robb turned on him. "I can't believe you would egg her on like that," Robb fumed. "You know her."

Jon ran a hand down his face, hiding his guilt behind his palm. "I didn't mean to. I wasn't thinking."

"Well you better have fun babysitting Daenerys, because you just painted a big target on her, and Sansa is very good at hitting the bullseye," Robb snapped, then stormed upstairs.

"Shit."


	3. Chapter 3

ROBB nudged Jon with a wide smile as the lecture wrapped up and students started packing up. He nodded toward Daenerys. "There goes your new girlfriend."

Jon glared at him, repulsed by the very thought. Daenerys' elfin prettiness didn't negate her endless yapping. Nor did it nullify the fact that he found her as interesting as listening to the same lectures decade after decade.

"This is ridiculous. Sansa wouldn't do anything in a town so small." He thought that statement over for a moment. "If something happens, we can double our donations to the annual town fundraiser."

"That would make you feel better, would it? Ease your conscience. Sansa won't care one way or another." Robb gave him a push in Daenerys' direction.

The silver head girl sat at her desk with her phone to her ear, chatting endlessly over some bland party she was planning. If he drained her himself, would Robb forgive him? Doing his best to contain his annoyance, Jon waited until she ended the conversation before stopping in front of her desk.

"Your birthday's coming up. Want to go for drinks?"

Daenerys' focus turned to the books on her desk as she closed them and quickly stood up.

Relief washed through him.

"Just because all the girls think you're hot, doesn't mean you can spend four years being a jerk to me and then ask me out." She flipped her hair in a somehow condescending manner and promptly left the classroom

A few girls tittered near him. Their eyes dancing away when he glanced in their direction.

Jon could see it now; the rumors going around connecting him to Daenerys. Not happening. "Girls," he said, his voice a low tempting hum, drawing them in; like victims to a trap.

A hand tightened on his shoulder. "Don't do it."

"Why not?" Jon looked away, breaking the girls' connection. Their rigid bodies and blank eyes sprang back to life as he turned to Robb.

"You can't alter their minds, because it's not over. Sansa's still here, and Daenery's still in danger because of you. If people think you like her, it won't be so weird when you hang out with her."

"I'm _not_ hanging out with her," Jon muttered.

"You will. I'll even join you at the bar. Just keep an eye on her. You don't have to do anything else."

The group of girls exchanged whispers as they stood up to leave, their minds clearly still on him and Daenerys. One of them even winked and spoke to him.

"See you tomorrow, Jon. Daenerys' planning a party for her birthday, you know."

"'Bye, Robb," another girl teased, her voice as inviting as a welcome mat. She made a 'call me' gesture before the group disappeared out the door.

Robb grimaced. "It's just until we know Sansa's intentions."

* * *

Sansa sat calmly, flipping through a luxury real estate magazine, seemingly oblivious to the hell she'd created for him with her little joke.

"You two look drawn. Are you hungry? I know someone we can dine on."

"You mean some _where_ we can dine, right?" Robb raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, that's . . . that's what I meant," she said, grinning and sneaking a peek at Jon.

" _I'm_ good for now," Robb said, rolling his eyes.

"Did you have a grand feast of squirrels and raccoons? Maybe a larger animal if you're lucky." Sansa folded one of the magazine pages.

"We came across Bambi and his mother a few weeks back. Mama deer actually tasted better than I would have imagined." Jon studied her face, trying to get an idea of what was going on behind her amused eyes.

"Sounds tragic," Sansa answered, tossing the magazine aside.

"Could have been better." Jon shrugged.

"I had the most amazing meal before flying here. Some businessman who invited me back to his place for dinner. Told me he had good taste." Her tongue darted out and swiped across her lips. "He was right. He tasted amazing. So did the one that grabbed me as I returned to the bar."

"So you won't be looking for food anytime soon?" Robb asked.

Sansa smiled, stretching her lithe body, and softly moaned before lowering her arms. She locked eyes with Jon.

His eyes remained fixed on the mischievous ones that stared back at him. The depth of those azure pools promised the destruction that awaited him would be worth it.

It was so easy to picture the way she'd looked the last time he heard that soft sound escape her lips.

And just like that, he was caught in the memories.

 _"Jonny." She moaned, her inky lashes fanning out. "Harder."_

He'd eagerly answered her request. Pounding into her until the walls cracked around them. There wasn't any sweat clinging to them or breaths to catch, only matching bruises littering their bodies. He ached to touch her now. Run his hands along her skin as her eyes swallowed him up until he was drowning and lost in the very essence of her.

"Jonny," she teased him now, almost as if reading his mind.

Jon jerked away from her knowing look and headed for the stairs. He wasn't self-destructive enough for this shit.

But his body refused to cooperate with what his mind already knew. The pressure in his pants was slow to deflate as he shut his room door and locked it.

A locked door couldn't keep Sansa out if she wanted to play her games. But for now, it seemed as if she was testing the waters. Teasing and waiting before she made a move.


	4. Chapter 4

VARIOUS murmured conversations carried on around him, occasionally echoing in his ears like a boom of thunder. Jon filtered them out. Nothing interesting ever happened in Winter Town. _He_ brought the interest.

Three hours after leaving the estate, Jon still couldn't figure out why he was here, boring himself with this forced outing. Thanks to the meddling girls from class, he was trapped in a packed restaurant with Daenerys, blinded by the bright yellow wallpaper and the sun filtering in near their window seat, as they waited for their order to be taken. It wasn't only the two of them at the table; they were joined by more of her friends, and Robb—his lifeline.

First, Jon had found himself entering the movie theaters with Daenerys, her entourage, and Robb, who had forced him to come. Jon tried to feign some interest: "So what are we going to see?" he'd asked.

"It's a surprise." Daenerys hid the tickets in her jacket.

That killed his attempt at faking interest. He hated surprises. Jon had spent the entirety of the movie slumped in his chair as he stared at the ceiling, ignoring Robb's pointed elbow jabs. One glance at the fake gore, and a series of high-pitched screams that clawed at his eardrums, made it clear that this wasn't the movie for him.

"I don't even like this movie," Daenerys said, as if she was doing him a favor by having watched it. "But Margaery thought you might want to see it though."

Jon fought against telling her she would have done them both a favor if she had refused.

Now, a young waitress with earth-colored eyes and hair approached their table, a disinterested look on her face until she caught sight of Robb and Jon. She instantly perked up, rushing through everyone's orders before focusing her attention on the two.

"What would _you_ like?" the waitress asked in a soft voice, her eyes flitting from one to the other.

"What are you offering?" Jon replied, his gaze traveling up her slim frame from top to bottom.

Daenerys cleared her throat and drummed her fingers on the table.

A flush of pink darkened the waitress' cheeks. "I guess you'd like a special order," she said.

Jon winked at her. "A very rare steak for the two of us. The bloodier the better."

"Gross," Daenerys muttered.

"I'll be right back with your orders." The waitress tucked her pen behind her ear and left.

"What are you doing?" Margaery, one of Daenerys' friends—and an old fling of Robb's—asked as soon as the waitress was out of earshot.

He grinned as all eyes around the table bore on him. "Oh, come on. I'm not going to sleep with the girl. She's amusing."

Daenerys pursed her lips and inhaled deeply. "You are so rude, Jon. I knew I shouldn't have agreed to this."

When the waitress returned with their orders, her shirt was unbuttoned lower than before. She passed everyone else their food before bending in an exaggerated manner to place Jon's order of bloody rare steak in front of him, along with a glass of beer. She treated Robb to the same display. Jon turned his head slightly and received an eyeful of the girl's cleavage as she had no doubt intended.

"If you have any other requests, I'll handle them personally," she said, sliding a paper out from her pocket and slipping it under his plate. "Share it with your friend." She winked before heading off to another customer.

Daenerys glared at him and Jon glared at his plate. It was criminal the way humans ruined perfectly good meat by cooking it. Even the half-raw mimicry the restaurant offered on its menu was a poor substitute for a fresh meal.

"You don't like your food?" one of Daenerys' friends inquired.

"I like my meal fresh and raw," Jon said.

"A gnarly caveman," laughed a guy who would be more tolerable after being drained of a few ounces of blood.

"You should have ordered sushi then," Daenerys said flippantly.

The steak oozed blood as he impaled it with his fork. The scent assaulted his nose—too much processing and artificial ingredients.

Disgusting.

This was even worse than squirrels and raccoons. At least those were fresh when he drained them.

"You know, Robb," Jon said, shoving the plate away. "I think you'll enjoy this more, seeing as it's animal blood. I know you're fond of it."

"Very funny," Robb replied, his plate having also remained untouched.

"So you eat full on raw food only?" asked the guy one of the girls had referred to as Lommy.

"Special diet. Doctor's orders." Jon rubbed his stomach. "I have very delicate tastes."

"Delicate?" one of the girls echoed. "More like brutal."

Jon lifted a brow at her. "I can't argue."

She shot him a soft smile before glancing guiltily over at Daenerys.

"Who is _that_?" Lommy whistled, his gaze fixed toward the entrance.

Their heads swiveled as one, but even before his eyes honed in on the figure, Jon already knew. The air crackled with her energy.

She stood, front and center, her auburn curls spilling around her alluring features; unfazed by the dozens of eyeballs running over her. Whispers came alive throughout the restaurant and Sansa welcomed them. She was a vision with her smooth skin and red lips as she advanced toward them.

"My sister," Robb introduced to the table, his intense eyes trained on Sansa.

"I got bored of being hidden like a dirty secret." She pouted for Robb, before turning her attention to Lommy. "Allow me to introduce myself," she purred. "I'm Sansa."

"Whoa," Lommy said. "Wow. Welcome to Winter Town. How long are you staying?"

"As long as it's fun." Sansa smiled, and then gazed at Jon. "Hey, Jonny." Her lips met his before he could react.

Daenerys shot an _I told you so_ look at Margaery, then stood up and pushed in her chair, her stare directed at Jon. "I think this outing is over. I don't like you, and I won't put up with your blatant rudeness."

"Oh no," Sansa said, as the girl left the restaurant. "Was this a date?"

"Have fun paying, Jon." Margaery snatched her purse from beside her plate before following after her friend.

"Well that ends that." Robb glanced at the remaining occupants.

The other girls remained seated, unsure of what to do, shooting uncomfortable looks at one another.

Lommy stared with unblinking eyes, spellbound by their new member.

And Sansa rubbed a finger across her bottom lip, observing each person, as if she was studying a menu, deciding on the tastiest meal.

The air around them hummed with subtle vibration as Jon drew the attention of the humans. "Get up and leave."

Almost as one they rose and pushed in their chairs, before they dismissed themselves from the table.

Now to deal with the biggest problem.


	5. Chapter 5

"I think you humiliated the poor girl. Shameful, Jon."

The table was cleared of the small group, only the two siblings and Jon remained.

"Why did you kiss me?" He couldn't think of any other way to broach the topic.

"You're welcome."

"You're ridiculous."

"Just thank me, Jonny. I saved you from her."

"You want me to believe you were helping me?"

"I was entertaining myself. I told you, I'm bored."

"Don't use me as your source of entertainment." His voice grated like rocks scraping across concrete.

"Fine." Sansa stood up. "I'm sure someone in this dread hole can entertain me."

Robb pulled her back down. "Please behave."

"What are those _things_?" Sansa asked, her eyes directed at their plates.

Jon grimaced. "Raw steak."

Sansa laughed. "I seriously hope you ordered that as a joke."

"It was a joke." Jon nodded. "On me."

"Poor thing." Sansa stroked a hand down the side of his face.

"Stop it." A growl rumbled from his chest.

She trailed a finger from his nose to his lips. "Make me."

Jon slapped her hand away, his mind clearing once the contact was gone. "Why are you here?"

"Because I've been so _bored_." Sansa sagged back against her chair. "Being good is hard."

"So go kill people . . . In another town. Far away from here."

"You don't really mean that, Jonny. I know you've missed me."

"Oh, I mean it."

Sansa gave him a lazy smile. "Why kill people in another town, when I can do it right here?" Her fingers crawled up his chest as she spoke.

He smacked her hand away again. "Because then we won't have to clean up your mess."

Her smile only widened in response. "That Lommy guy is so cute. I can't believe I didn't get his number. Jonny, can you get it for me next time you see him?"

Jon rolled his eyes. "In your dreams."

"He might be." Sansa twirled a curl as she stood up. "Bathroom break. I'll be right back."

Jon turned to Robb as soon as she disappeared from view. "She's been living in Paris for the last eighty years. She wouldn't leave unless something made her."

"She hasn't changed her story," Robb responded with a resigned shrug. "She still says she came here because she was bored."

"I don't buy that for a minute. Not even a second. She's up to something and—"

A scream tore through the restaurant. Springing the quiet diners into frenzied action.

"Oh my gosh! Somebody come QUICK!"

"Oh no!" another voice sobbed. "Help! Please help."

Utensils slammed down and chairs scrapped back. Nervous whispers buzzed through the air like a colony of bees as footsteps thundered with the heaviness of a stampede.

"Sansa." Robb was already across the restaurant with Jon at his side.

"What has she done?"

It took a second to find out. The smell of blood was rich, the scent beckoning him as the crimson liquid pooled toward the frightened crowd. The pretty young waitress that had served them earlier lay near the bathroom door, her skin drained of the flush that had painted her cheeks earlier. The only color left on her was the blood pumping out of her torn throat.

Jon raised his hands toward his mouth, a downward pressure pushing his canines as they started to extend. His body tensed and Robb grabbed him as Jon struggled to resist the sweet lure of blood.

Robb stood so still he appeared lifeless. The air hung heavy around him; his face a stone mask as he stared at his sister's handiwork. The reddening of his irises was the only indication of his hunger. "Let's go," Robb said.

The sun released its unrelenting bolts of heat, scorching, as the rays hit his skin outside the restaurant, but it was easier to bear its torture than to resist the hunger the waitress's blood had stirred.

"Sansa," Jon growled.

* * *

She was waiting for them when they returned to the estate, a smirk on her face and her skin flushed from her fresh feed as she studied her nails.

"Not this town, Sansa," Robb warned his sister. "I won't let you."

She locked him in a stare. "Are you going to stop me?"

He raked fingers through his hair, clasping his hands behind his lowered head. When his head lifted, Robb's anger had deflated; unable to wage war with her.

Jon prowled beside him, his rage growing. "What was your goal, Sansa?"

"I heard her talking about you. Said she was hooking up with you later. I had to protect your reputation."

"I would have hooked up with her a hundred times before ever needing your protection," Jon seethed.

Sansa's eyes darkened. "I don't appreciate your attitude, Jon."

She was gone and back in a flash, and a burst of flame-hot pain exploded in his stomach, quickly spreading up his torso. Jon looked down expecting to see his clothes engulfed, but he only saw the handle of a kitchen knife as the blade pierced his middle.

Jon roared at her, yanking the blade out. The flowing blood trickled to a stop and the gaping flesh repaired itself. He threw the knife aside, its blade finding a new target as it impaled the wall.

Sansa's pupils dilated as she stared up at him. "Are you going to punish me? I like it when you're rough."

"This isn't a joke, Sansa," Robb stepped in.

"Of course it isn't."

"Do you know the hysteria you caused?" he asked his sister.

"Calm down, Mr. Grumpy," she said, turning away from Jon. "Someone left the back door open and a wild animal roamed in and attacked one of the waitresses. Everybody knows that."

"Aren't you tired of your games?" Jon demanded, his fury turning to ice. "Because I am."

The look that filled her eyes didn't bode well for anyone. "You used to be fun. What happened to you?"

"You left. And I changed."

"No, you didn't change. You've just forgotten. But I'll make you remember."


	6. Chapter 6

"How much longer are you going to just stand there? It's been hours."

Robb turned away from Sansa's bedroom door to face Jon. "I don't know."

"We have work to do. Damage control or whatever," Jon said.

"It won't be enough."

"Well, with a volatile vampire on the loose, of course it won't be enough. But it's a starting point."

"This is not a one-time thing. Sansa is not acting out. She has a goal, Jon. Whatever it is, this is only the beginning."

The door creaked open behind Robb and they shifted their attention to the figure in the threshold.

"Good morning." Sansa made a face. "That waitress. She was a little bit blah for me."

Robb's face was stone, disapproval etched into every plane.

"Why the long face?" Sansa asked, feigning naivety.

He shook his head as he headed for the stairs with Jon.

"Are you still taking me on a tour of the town? You don't want me to stumble somewhere I shouldn't, do you?" Sansa's voice followed them. The slam of the front door was the only reply she received.

Once outside, Robb looked to Jon. "I don't want to leave her alone," Robb admitted, as they made their way toward the forest bordering their sprawling property. "It's not safe."

"Of course it's not safe," Jon agreed. "I'm sorry to tell you, but your sister is unhinged."

Robb side-eyed him. "I still love her . . . so do you."

"We need to get deeper into the forest ," Jon replied.

The short conversation now over, the two vampires flashed through the dense trees, occasionally crashing into trunks wider than them and leaving sunken indentures; more often cracking the bark and causing pieces to crumble. Leaves trembled and rained down; thin branches tumbled, scattering the ground in their wake.

They found what they'd searched for, buried deep between the closely packed trees.

A mountain lion.

Its powerful frame tensed as they approached; its piercing yellow eyes tracked their every movement. The beast growled as Robb and Jon advanced. Then it charged.

The predator pounced, its sharp teeth displayed.

They displayed theirs in return and met its attack head on.

Jon hissed, ready to sink his fangs into the beast's warm flesh as it leapt.

"If you bite it, that defeats the whole purpose of covering her tracks," Robb warned.

He shot Robb a dry look, before dodging the cougar's swiping paw, and tackling the carnivore midair with a rattling thud that flattened the vegetation beneath them. The sharp claws struck out again, this time ripping into Jon's skin like razors shredding paper. Jon rolled away from it as pain tore through his body and dark blood streamed between his fingers.

Robb jumped onto the animal's side, pinning it to the ground. He held steady as it attempted to shake him off. "Are you okay?" he asked Jon who was still clutching his side.

"I will be." Jon removed his hand and pulled up his black shirt to reveal an inflamed cut running through his side. "It's not healing as quickly."

"The bleeding's stopping. It will patch up soon." Robb squeezed his arms tighter around the cougar as it struggled.

Jon stood up with a wince, holding up his bloodstained hands. "I'll clean up at the stream and help you get that to town."

"I'll just wait here," Robb said as the cougar growled under him.

Jon flashed to a small stream that split the left side of the forest, dunking his hands into the cold water and scrubbing at them until the dried blood was gone. He peeled off his shirt, cursing as the sticky material pulled at his wound. The cut opened, releasing a leak of crimson liquid and Jon scooped up water and splashed it on his torso, cleansing the blood that had dried there. Never again was he going to go this long without human blood. Once his shirt was rinsed clean, he pulled it on and headed back to where Robb waited. He helped constrain the beast as Robb hauled it up, and they sped to town.

Jon dialed the sheriff as Robb pinned the cougar to the ground. "Sheriff Seaworth? I think we found the animal that killed the waitress. It's chasing us. Hurry! We're at the old hotel." He disconnected the call.

As the sirens sounded in the distance, quickly drawing nearer, they started counting down.

"When the sheriff gets close enough, we need to get on top of the dumpster. Make it convincing," Robb instructed.

"The sheriff's here," Jon announced seconds before the police car turned the block. Robb released the cougar and they flashed to the dumpster, the container rattling beneath them.

The cougar growled at the slam of the car door, turning to face the new arrival, its ears flattened and eyes narrowed into slits as the sheriff yelled for Robb and Jon to stay put. His gun exploded, the bullet spinning through the air and hitting its target. The cougar collapsed again.

The sheriff's gun was still smoking as the pair hopped down from the dumpster and walked over to him. "There's more of them roaming deep in the forest. This one chased us. The others that we came across retreated . . . but they may come back," Jon told the salt and pepper haired man.

Sansa's not done, he really meant.

Sheriff Seaworth nodded, his brown eyes filled with relief. "I don't know how you boys did it, but you two just saved this town considerable fear."

"Don't thank us yet," Robb warned.

"I'll thank you anyway, and everyone else will agree, I'm sure. I haven't seen such a bold attack before. It's a scary thing when beasts start prowling our streets. We've dispatched a team out on patrol."

Robb nodded. "A patrol will help me sleep easier at night. Thank you, Sheriff."

"Do you boys need a ride?"

"That's alright," Jon spoke up. "We need to walk off the adrenaline. I'm still jittery."

The Sheriff nodded. "That's understandable."

"Hopefully another attack doesn't happen before we get back," Jon said when they were a safe distance away.

Robb wasn't typically the brooding type, but a dark cloud settled over his face until words exploded out of him. "She's my responsibility. I've always taken care of her. And even though I've spent more time cleaning up her mess than anything else, she's still the most important thing to me. Other than you of course."

 _She's the most important thing to me too._

Jon bit down on his tongue, nearly severing it. He kept his mouth clamped until the appendage healed itself; focusing on Robb's rant instead of the words in his head.

"I don't want to force her to give up what's natural to her. But how can I let her destroy this town?"


	7. Chapter 7

GRIEF hung in the air weighing it down as the casket was lowered into the ground. Jon tugged at his collar, wishing he could be anywhere but here. But after the sheriff had spread the word about what he and Robb did, it was expected for them to attend.

It seemed as if the whole town had shown up to say farewell to the young waitress.

The old graveyard had been built next to the forest, the trees providing a dark shade. The north side of the cemetery was filled with headstones, discolored and worn from age; some with familiar names of people he and Robb once knew.

A dull clunk sounded, its effect as potent as a stab to the heart; wails erupted from the family of the deceased. Another pile of dirt was shoveled onto the coffin, and Jon nudged Robb so they could make their escape.

"Robb!"

Jon barely held back his groan as they turned to face the mahogany haired girl. She advanced toward them, her face drawn.

"Robb," she greeted again. Her tone was curter when she turned to Jon. "Jon."

"Hello, Margaery," Robb said.

"I just wanted to say, it was very brave of you to go hunting for the cougar that did this." She gestured toward the rectangular hole several feet away. "Things could have been so much worse if not for you two."

"It's not a problem," Jon said. His answer to other gratitude-expressing individuals had been more modest.

She gave a brief nod at Jon's reply and turned to leave.

Robb reached out and stopped her. "We're not heroes."

"You are to me and the rest of the town," Margaery disagreed, a shy smile peeking out like sprouting fangs from a newly turned vamp.

"Hey, I'm the one who was clawed by the beast," Jon said, rubbing the wound that still marred his skin. "Where's my hero worship?"

"It _clawed_ you?"

"Unfortunate choice of words," Jon backtracked, dropping his hand.

"He's exaggerating. The mountain lion never got close to us. It was toying with us," Robb assured.

"Gosh. That's so scary," Margaery breathed.

"Your concern for my safety—if I had a heart, it would be touching." Jon smirked over Robb's glare.

"Hey, do me a favor and don't walk around alone. You, Daenerys, all of you, just stick close," Robb told her.

"It's okay now." Margaery's gaze flickered toward the mound of dirt. "Well, it's not okay. But the threat is gone. The mountain lion is dead."

"There's more of them still roaming in the forest. Just stay safe, and don't stroll around alone," Robb said.

"And don't go into the forest either," Jon added. "Curiosity killed the cat, don't let it get you too."

Margaery shook her head. "Bye, Robb. Jon."

Robb watched her disappear into the crowd.

Jon elbowed him to get his attention. "Let's get out of here."

"Excuse me, dears." They moved out of the way to allow an elderly woman through.

"You know, Robb," Jon started, as they maneuvered around the mourners and headed for the gate. "If you're just going to pick things back up with your little human girlfriend, why bother wiping her mind that last time."

"It was a one-time thing. She regretted it in the morning so I saved her the trouble," Robb grumbled.

"Girls at bars tend to regret things the morning after . . . but then again, maybe she didn't regret it too much. She's back again, even without the memory of what happened last time. Must be that natural charm of yours, Mr. Robb." Jon smirked.


	8. Chapter 8

JON hissed. He held a hand to his brow, shielding his eyes from that hateful ball of fire in the sky. He wanted to glare at the sun, but his eyes would suffer for it. He quickened his pace across the campus walkway until students started parting for him, rubbing at his arms and almost expecting to see steam wafting from them. Red patches were appearing like sunburn, but no steam. His body's ability to repair itself dropped rapidly with each passing day. "Why couldn't this town be packed with criminals that everyone would be glad to get rid of?"

"Even a sudden decline of criminals would cause a disturbance in a small town," Robb stated by Jon's side. His blue eyes took in the patches on Jon's arms. "Do you need to skip class today and go feed?"

"As tempting as that sounds, feeding on squirrels makes me hungrier. I'd rather avoid spending the day at home waiting for the hunger to become manageable again," Jon said.

"What happened to you?" a voice suddenly asked.

Jon turned to see a tan, curly haired girl—Missandei—staring curiously at his arms. He'd danced with her at a few parties, where she'd once drunkenly kissed him. "I didn't realize I was allergic to nuts until after trying a hazelnut milkshake."

"Maybe I'll find something that can help you," she joked. "Make a new discovery." She nodded at her partner. "We're spending all day in the forest for field study, analyzing vegetation and collecting samples." She made a face.

"Sounds intense," Robb said.

"Gets me out of class," Missandei grinned, before waving goodbye and continuing on with her partner.

The coolness of the college halls were a relief, but he had to fend off too many questions about his 'sunburn'. Jon repeated his story about a nut allergy to anyone who asked.

"Hey, man!" Lommy's yell traveled down the hall, he rubbed his palms together as he approached Robb. It was the first time he'd ever sought him out. "Your sister! How long is she visiting?"

Robb pinned him with a stare. "You need to stay away from her. I'm warning you for your own good."

"Whoa, dude, chill. I'm not going to hurt her."

"You can't." Robb moved past him.

Jon joined Robb. "That dick," he muttered.

They entered their math class a few steps behind the professor.

Daenerys' bright violet eyes caught him in a glare from the middle of the classroom, halting him for a second before Jon shook it off, sending a smirk her way.

She leaned to her right and whispered in Margaery's ear. _"There goes the jerk. Probably stuck it in the wrong place and caught something."_

Her private whisper boomed in his ear loud and clear, causing Jon to relax against his chair in amusement.

"Someone's still mad at you," Robb acknowledged.

"I guess this means I'm free from attending her party."

"I don't think you were ever on the guest list," Robb grinned.

"Thank goodness."

As the class came to an end, Margaery wound her way through students heading for the door and made her way toward where Jon and Robb sat.

"I'm struggling a little with some of the problems and since we have a test coming up, I was wondering if you could help me study?" Margaery asked, determination filled her doe brown eyes.

"No problem," Robb said, quick to abandon his best-friend. "Do you want to start now?"

"Yeah, can we go to the library?" Margaery suggested.

Robb's head of red-brown curls bobbed about before he followed her out the door, ignoring the half-amused and half-annoyed face Jon was making as he watched the two go.

* * *

Jon made his way into the estate, debating if he should go hunting on his own or not since Robb was preoccupied.

But first . . . he headed upstairs to check that Sansa was still in the house, and not out on a rampage.

She opened her bedroom door after a few knocks. "You couldn't resist—Look at you," Sansa said, touching the red spots on his skin. "You need to feed."

"I'm aware."

"What's stopping you?" She sounded genuinely curious.

"Robb and I go hunting together."

"Robb can go for longer stretches without eating and still be perfectly fine. You on the other hand . . ." She stared at his slowly fading red patches.

"He keeps me in check," Jon said.

"You mean he controls how you feed," Sansa corrected.

"For good reason."

A smile stretched her lips. "You need to be what you are. Feed unrestricted. No control. Let the hunger take over. Feed until the blood powers you." Her pupils were a black sinkhole as they nearly wiped out the paleness of her iris.

Jon gulped, her voice acted as a spell that washed over him. His body agreed with her, yearned to do exactly as she'd stated. He took a step back. "I'm not like you. Not anymore."

He left her swiftly and headed for the forest, the hunger making him careless as he hunted. Deer had less fur and their size assured that they would have some effect on his hunger; even if it was to bring it down a pang. Herds were easy to catch; they were slow, their bodies awkward and legs clumsy. Jon was too starved to pity the crying fawns as he drained the deer protecting them.

But maybe it was wrong to leave the fawns abandoned; they were now helpless targets for other predators out there. Maybe it was more merciful to suck them dry too.

Warm blood dripped down his chin. The entire herd had been drained dry. It wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed something stronger. Voices floated from several yards away, disturbing the silence of death around him, as if answering his need for more.

Jon edged toward the voices, hungry and craving for the richness of human blood. His fangs were still extended as he came across the pair crouched near the base of a large tree, he stepped out from a smaller group of saplings, ready to tear apart flesh.

The girl turned, her eyes widening as she recognized him. "Jon? You're bleeding! Were you hurt?"

Jon turned away and wiped the blood from his chin, keeping his face averted until his canines had retracted. "I fell," he said at last, the human voice smoothing away the gruff, primeval howls that had stalked the pack of deer. "Bit down on my tongue and busted my lip."

"Do you want some water to wash off the blood?" Missandei asked.

"No, I'm heading home now," Jon declined, then he quickly put distance between himself and the two humans.

He'd come too close this time. If he'd taken even _one_ bite out of a Winter Town resident, what would stop him from more? Sansa's encouragement swam in his head, knowing the right words to test his resolve.

The red patches were now a faded pink. The healing accelerated by the animal blood he'd consumed. A measly fast-food to hold him over while waiting for a proper meal. It was better than nothing. But it wasn't what he needed. It wasn't what he craved.


	9. Chapter 9

THE floor vibrated beneath his feet, barely able to suppress the music throbbing through its wood finishing. Jon left his room, the sound screeched in his ears like a dying bat and bounced off the walls, trapping him in a four walled torture chamber as he entered the living room.

"Turn that down," he ordered the auburn haired figure holding a one-man dance party in front of the speaker.

"Dance with me," Sansa responded.

Jon pressed down on the volume button until the roar of the music wasn't threatening to bring down the walls.

"I don't dance," he told her.

"Liar. We used to dance under the moonlight. You loved twirling me around with the stars as our spotlight."

He didn't have a response to her. He watched for a while as she twirled with an imaginary partner, looking deceivingly innocent. Her cheeks were still flushed from her waitress snack, giving her a healthy, youthful glow. To those that didn't know better, she resembled any nineteen-year-old human enjoying a carefree life.

"Jon." He jerked out of his trance and looked toward the previously empty doorway. Robb motioned him over.

"What's up?" Jon asked heading over to him.

"Margaery wants to meet up at the bar. She's bringing her friends so you're my plus one."

"The last disaster wasn't enough?"

"You owe me," Robb said.

"I'm only agreeing because you did the same for me," Jon told him.

"Are you two trying to sneak out without me?" Sansa restarted the song as it came to a finish.

"Who knows what you might do if we bring you along?" Robb answered.

"Who knows what I might do once you leave," she countered and whirled around, throwing her hands up to the tune.

Robb turned back to him. "Go ahead of me. I'll swing by shortly."

"I was planning to." Jon nodded toward Sansa, his voice lowering and a glint entering his eyes as his gaze leveled on her. "Ditch the baggage," he told Robb. He barely had time to speed out the door before the desk crashed against it. He chuckled as Sansa's murderous glare lingered in his mind.

* * *

The music from the bar swelled over him before he even stepped into the establishment. Every available space in the bar was occupied with a body. Bodies were squeezed together on the dance floor, making it difficult to distinguish between couples, groups, and those attempting to dance on their own. Tables had extra chairs pushed in to make space for large groups. Or even strangers looking for a seat. It was a gathering of heated blood, pumping with alcohol and hormones.

"Oh goody," Jon said when he spotted Daenerys, Margaery, Lommy and the usuals near the windows. The girls were perched on the windowsill. "Couldn't find seats?" he asked, approaching them.

"Take a look around," Daenerys snapped. "What do you think?" Her eyebrows scrunched together as she glared at him.

"You can fall out the window you know," he told her.

"It's closed, Jon," Margaery replied. "The chances are slim to none."

"You never know. Stranger things have happened."

Margaery shook her head at him.

"What?" he asked.

"Thank you for your concern, Jon. If any one of us ever fear for our lives at the hands of a closed window, we'll be sure to call you."

"No problem," Jon replied, giving her a mock bow.

"Where's Robb?" Daenerys asked. Margaery perked up, looking invested in the answer.

"He's on his way. Just helping his sister with something."

"Are you two dating?" Lommy blurted out. "You and his sister."

"I'm going to get a drink." Jon turned away from the group and moved in the opposite direction. The question had conjured up feelings he wanted to believe he had under control. But the thought of what he and Sansa currently were to each other reminded him of what they used to be. Lovers. Soulmates. Joined at the hips.

Or had it all been one sided?

Burning heat washed over him and his fists clenched. A red haze fell over his vision as the bodies around him blended together in the dim light, the music fading into the background until only the throbbing of dozens of jugulars rose above his muddled surrounding.

A growl rose in his chest as his canines pushed down, stretching into two-inch incisors. A girl brushed past him, her neck sparkling with a dust of glitter—

"Hey, sorry I took so long, Sansa was determined to come." Jon turned to Robb, whose eyes narrowed as he took in his state. "Get outside, get some air."

He pushed past large groups of people blocking the exit en masse, causing drinks to spill and shouts of outrage to follow him as he headed for the door. The haze lifted once he stepped outside, as if carried away with the breeze.

He was unraveling.

Sansa was unraveling him.

He was getting closer and closer to crossing that irrevocable line where everything would change. And the control that he'd worked so hard to gain would be lost.

Sansa was sharing air space with Lommy when Jon reentered the bar and rejoined the group.

She trailed her fingers down Lommy's torso. "You are so hot. Don't mind Jonny, he's a little upset because I ended things with him." She leaned close to whisper. "I needed space."

"Oh," Lommy said.

"Yeah. It's been awkward ever since," Sansa continued.

Daenerys wore a satisfied expression at the conversation, that had Jon wavering on his agreement with Robb to protect her from Sansa.  
He turned his back on both, his gaze landing on a girl that was eyeing him from a few feet away. Her eyes were filled with a thirst that had nothing to do with the drink in her hand.

He met her across the room. Her brown eyes and pink lips a welcome distraction.

"What are you looking forward to tonight?" he asked her.

"Kissing you," she replied.

He didn't need to hear anything more. Jon crushed his lips against hers, silencing the part of him that protested that she was a poor substitute. When they detached themselves from one another, Jon realized that Sansa was gone. And so was Lommy. Not that he cared about the jerk, but a second attack might cause problems.

Robb was too busy orbiting around Margaery to take notice that his sister had gone missing with a potential victim.

Jon muted the surrounding sounds and focused on the one he wanted to hear, allowing the voices to swell in his ear once he filtered them out.

 _"Gosh, you're beautiful,"_ Lommy's voice sounded from the hallway.

 _"Don't talk."_ He could hear the hunger in Sansa's voice, and it wasn't for what Lommy was expecting.

Not sparing an explanation for the girl he'd temporarily swapped tongues with, he headed in their direction, trying to get to the hallway while maintaining a human speed. Jon shoved people out of the way, ignoring what felt like a tap on his arm as a guy attempted to shove him back. He heard Sansa's growl, and a yell from Lommy, and broke into a sprint.

"Drank too much?" someone joked as he passed by a cluster of people smoking and burst through the doors leading into the hallway.

"Sansa!"

She ignored him, drinking from Lommy's neck. His eyes were widened twice their normal size. The black of his pupils overtaking his iris.

Jon closed the distance between them and locked his arms around her, yanking at her, but she was latched on. Her slender body more powerful than it appeared.

"Sansa!" he yelled again. The scent of blood was strong. The blood pumping from Lommy's wound spilling down his front and covering Sansa's chin as she fed.

Jon shut his eyes, trying to lower the temptation, but the smell infused his nostrils.

The doors leading to the hallway swung inward and his eyes flew open as a guy walked through. "Whoa, what's going on?" the guy asked, unable to process what he was seeing.

Sansa hurled out of Jon's grip, her teeth sinking into the guy's neck before Jon could order him to leave.

Where was Robb? He needed him.

Jon grabbed her again, holding firmly, as he finally pulled her off. The guy collapsed to the ground.

Blood coated Sansa's mouth and chin as she faced him, smirking at his extended canines and the hunger on his face. She pushed him away, loosening his grip, before flashing out the back door.

The puddle of blood was growing, and Jon crouched near the two figures slumped on the ground. Their heartbeats pounded in his ears, erratic but solid. He'd stopped Sansa from causing any real damage to either. But now he was hungry. His fangs hovered over Lommy's throat, seeming to have a will of its own as it pulled him closer and closer.

The smell was the answer to every craving he'd ever had. His resolve seeped out over the course of several tremors as he tried to resist drinking from the wound that was open in invitation.

In one last effort, Jon threw his head up. "ROBB!"


	10. Chapter 10

ROBB

ROBB crashed through the brown double doors, more beast than human, despite his outer appearance. His body was tense, ready for danger; his face contorted into a snarl. His gaze swept the room, his eyes red and hungry, his fangs lethal, before he focused on the scene. Without sparing words, he grabbed Jon with an iron clamp and separated him from the unconscious bodies. "Go watch Sansa."

It wasn't a suggestion. The order was obeyed without question.

Once alone with the aftermath of his sister's presence, Robb allowed himself to gain control over his nature; shutting himself down and disconnecting from the chaos, until only one instrumental command remained clear in his head:

Clean her mess.

It was the same motto that kept him moving century after century. Whenever Sansa was near, it was the only rule ingrained into him. Because all of this was his fault.

Sansa's rampage was simply a byproduct of his selfishness.

Their parents' only girl, his sister had always been spoiled rotten, but without malice. She was used to getting her way and couldn't fathom why she was told 'no' when a wealthy man caught sight of her in their family's village and asked for her to be his mistress. Their parents forbade it, locking her in the house and breaking off all contact between Sansa and the man.

He'd retaliated, sending men to set fire to their home in the night, while Sansa and their parents slept. Robb had spotted the flames from the woods where he'd been practicing _henosis_ , a form of meditation in Ancient Greece, under the watchfulness and privacy of the silent, pale moon. The night breeze had greeted him with a gentle caress, settling a soothing calm over him; as the creatures of the night exchanged calls all around him. By the time Robb had been aware of trouble, there was little he could do.

The scorched, suffocating air that cloaked the house was a horrifying contrast to the crisp air he'd been enjoying minutes earlier. His parents' bedroom was already an impenetrable wall of red and orange flames, but he'd found Sansa gasping near the front door, her clothes melted and her feet blackened from soot. Her skin was covered in boils, and although doubtful that she'd survive the journey, Robb had cradled her in his arms and set out for help.

There weren't any proper doctors near their little village, but there was a healer that the village people stayed clear of. Secrets shielded him, and rumors swirled around him like a black mist. He was a tall man with skin too pale for the blazing sun, and brown eyes that appeared as foreboding as a murky well. It was him that Robb set off to find.

The man was already waiting by the time Robb arrived at his door, as if he'd never fallen asleep although it was well past midnight. As if he'd heard Robb coming from miles away.

"Help her." There wasn't any time for greetings only desperation.

The man stared at him for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity as Sansa's breathing grew more labored with each endless second. "Is it wise?" His voice was ageless, as smooth as his colorless skin was wrinkled. As timeless as his brown eyes.

Robb stared. _Is it wise to save someone that's hurt? Is it wise to save someone that's dying?_

"There's a darkness in her," the man continued, before Robb could give voice to his questions. "You might not like what you're unleashing."

"Please." It seemed like a ridiculous reply in response to the riddles the man had sprouted. But Sansa's gasps filled his ears like a dying rattle, and nothing else mattered.

The man nodded. "Very well, but under one condition. You turn first."

"Turn?" Robb faced the doorway.

The man chuckled. It sounded more like a trap than any indication of humor.

"Someone must protect the world from her."

Robb should have ended it right there. Called it off as the man's strange words sent icy fingers crawling up his spine. But he'd lost his parents that night and needed his sister. So Robb gave a simple nod to the man and pain had erupted in his neck as his world turned sideways and spun off its axis until everything was a blur of color that didn't make sense.

Sansa was turned and saved.

And the world bled.

He'd been trying his best to clean up her mess ever since.

Being a beast without competition brought out a darkness that her humanity had buried. And Robb finally understood the man's warning as he learned quickly that a spoiled, petty teenager was nothing compared to a spoiled, out of control vampire.

But his true guilt lay in the knowledge that despite how Sansa had turned out, he would make the same choice all over again if given a do-over. His parents' faces were mere memories in his mind, but at least his sister's face was real. And that was worth everything.

A cheer from inside the bar drew his attention back to the situation. The two guys on the floor lay clinging to life. What to do with the bodies?

Robb hauled the two up, speeding out through the back door and laying them near the entrance, a couple of feet from one another. He returned to the hallway, hoping the scene looked convincing enough for a cougar attack. Now to deal with the security cameras. Robb released a hum of high frequency that melted the camera sensors, before making his way back to the main room of the bar.

He stopped in front of a girl a few feet from the door. Her cheeks were flushed from drinking but her eyes clear. "Call Sheriff Seaworth. Tell him there's been another mountain lion attack," he instructed her, before moving further into the room.

The music blared, and bodies grinded together on the dance floor. People crowded around the bar laughing, and flirting, their voices blending with the conversations of those seated at the tables. All unaware of the carnage that had occurred beyond the double doors.

A hum spread through the air, the accompanying vibration locking everyone's attention together. "Two guys have been attacked by a mountain lion near the back door. Some of you tried to chase it but it escaped." Robb focused on two workers behind the bar. "You two go tend to their wounds. Stop the blood flow as best as you can until the paramedics arrive."

He looked down at his shirt which was soaked with blood and felt a throbbing in his gums as his body demanded to feed. The scent surrounded him, floating up from his saturated shirt and infusing his nostrils. He tried to block it out as he made his way over to the window where he had left Margaery and her friends, but the scent followed him, the wetness of his shirt sticking against his skin. Should he change and come back?

Margaery's brown eyes stared blankly in the direction he'd been standing. Robb broke his connection to them and watched as the room came alive, horrified expressions breaking across people's faces.

"Someone call the ambulance!" a guy yelled as several people dashed for the hallway doors. Many more pulled out their cellphones, speaking frantically.

"Your shirt," Margaery gasped, staring at where it had turned a deep red in areas.

"Yeah, I just came from over there. It's really bad," Robb acknowledged. "The bartenders are helping them now."

"This is awful," Daenerys said, covering her mouth.

"Where's Lommy?" a girl suddenly cried.

"LOMMY?" Several members of the group swung their heads around, searching for the missing member.

"Was it Lommy?" Margaery asked Robb, her eyes large and face resembling the clean part of his white shirt.

Robb swallowed as the sirens screamed in the distance.


	11. Chapter 11

JON tore off his blood-soaked outfit, shoving it into the washer and heading to the bathroom for a shower while the bleach cleansed it. The water turned red as he stood under the spray, taunting him with what he was missing out on as it slowly disappeared down the drain. Once the scent and sight of blood had been completely rinsed from his body and the marble tiles, he donned clean clothes in his bedroom while preparing to face Sansa.

What was he going to say? Jon pulled his hairbrush through his hair, until the brown strands lay smoothly in place. _Oh yeah, love the way you tore that guy's neck apart._ He shook his head and threw the brush on top of his dresser. Sansa wouldn't care about anything he had to say. He left his bedroom and made his way downstairs, rounded a corner, and there she was.

"Great job, Sansa," he said, joining her in the living room. He started a slow clap.

Her eyebrow arched mockingly as her index finger traced a 'x' over the surface of the glass centerpiece table. "Do you even care about the humans? Or do you simply want me to not ruin your little fantasy life? Kind of hypocritical, don't you think? Feed on one town but not the other?"

"It makes sense not to ruin the town we're living in," Jon said, matching her casual tone. She'd also showered and changed into clean clothes. Her freshly washed hair tumbled around her like a glossy waterfall. She appeared soft under the dimmed light; far removed from the unquenchable beast from the bar.

"Why stay here? Why not move from place to place?" Sansa asked.

"For the same reason you settled in Paris."

She shrugged. "I still feed."

"Winter Town isn't as big as Paris."

Sansa dismissed his reply with a wave of her hand. "So why not _move_?" she asked again.

Jon's jaw tightened in frustration. He didn't want to admit that the reason he stayed rooted here tied back to her and watch a gleam of victory appear in her eyes. He chose not to answer.

Sansa seemed to grow bored with his silence as her finger stilled on the table. "You and Robb are so busy trying to protect one girl, but who says she's the only one in danger?" Her voice was calm as a breezeless night, which made her words even more foreboding. Because there wasn't a hint of teasing to be found in her eyes. Only deadly conviction.

"Why are you doing this? You're not hungry. You're not doing it because you need to feed." Jon leaned toward her as if that would help him understand better.

"Because I can. Because it's natural." Her voice was matter-of-fact.

"Fight it." He moved closer to her and she stopped him with the steel that filled her words.

"Why? So you and Robb can go on pretending? Live the lives of pathetic humans?"

Jon's hands spread out. "Why does it matter? Just tell me, Sansa. Why are you really here?" He paused. "Why don't you go to a bigger town and wreak your havoc? Why here?"

"I told you, Jonny, I missed you." Her voice was soft and calm again.

"LIE!" The word erupted out of him before he could stop it. Jon allowed the doubt to sweep over him, wiping out any hope that threatened to take root and sprout.

"Believe what you want, Jon." Sansa's eyes held his steadily, before she turned and left.

* * *

Jon smelled the blood as soon as Robb entered. "Everything under control?" he asked as Robb stepped into the room. The front of his shirt was now a deep crimson.

Robb gave a nod. "Lommy and the other guy are down for the night, their families are with them. The medicine won't wear off for a few hours. I'll be there before they wake, so I can imprint on them before they're questioned."

Jon nodded.

Robb sighed as he continued. "Police are setting up a larger perimeter around the forest edge. Sheriff Seaworth also wants to station some armed patrol around public buildings to keep watch."

"For all the good that will do." Jon snorted.

"I think we have to leave," Robb said quietly.

"What?" Jon wasn't sure he had heard correctly.

"We have to leave sooner than planned and not just to feed. Stay in a new place for a year or two. As long as it takes." The words looked like they pained Robb to say.

Jon shot to his feet. "What's to stop her from following us and doing the same thing? She's trying to get to us. She's trying to get to _me_."

"A bigger town. Or maybe the forest for a while," Robb muttered, seeming oblivious to Jon's outburst.

"No," Jon said. "I'm not going to give Sansa what she wants."

"And what is it that she wants? Do you know? Because I don't." Robb's gaze was hard.

"To make my life miserable," Jon mumbled, sinking back into the couch. Neither of them said anything for a while, and then Robb sighed again.

"Do you remember when you used to hunt for the thrill and rush of it? And then after that you hunted to ease the hole inside you. The hole was constant, so you preyed unceasingly, until the bodies piled up. It took me decades to get you to only feed on humans out of necessity. I don't want my hard work undone. I don't want to see you revert back to how you used to be. How Sansa _made_ you. She's my sister, but I know how disastrous her influence can be."

Robb paused before he continued, "This town. The normalcy. The routine. It's made all the difference. And if Sansa continues her rampage here, it will destroy everything. We have to leave, not only to save the town, but to save you too."

The silence stretched out and Jon wondered if Sansa was gloating upstairs.

"I'm going to freshen up and head to bed." Robb left the room. Vampires didn't actually sleep, although it felt nice to close their eyes and shut down their body after an exhausting day. Their rest was more comparable to meditation than sleep. It relaxed their minds, nothing more.

Jon remembered. The torment after Sansa's departure. The pain that he'd dulled by feeding. Always feeding. Death on Legs, Robb had called him. Infused with more pain than he could handle, Jon's only release had been through raining destruction and havoc. Robb had taken him under his wings and put a stop to it.

They'd stayed secluded in the forest for a while, when Jon had been too unstable to be around humans. When Robb trusted his control enough he'd found a small quiet town to settle them into. Winter Town's population had been around fifty when they'd arrived in 1749, only about eight buildings in the town square. The slow crawl of the lifestyle and the friendliness of the small town inspired a calm in him that slowly swept away the inner storm that had hurtled him out of control.

It was that calm that Sansa was threatening to snap.


	12. Chapter 12

THE doorknob turned with a soft click and the door pushed open. Her fragrance wafted to him, the lavender caressing his nose.

"Get out."

She did the opposite. She slid into the bed, sidling up next to him. "What are you up to?" she murmured.

"The lavender rolled off her in soft waves. Wrapping around him like a cocoon until his arms itched to pull her close. He clenched his fists and buried them under the covers. "You stole the words right out of my mouth, Sansa. That's what everyone should be asking you. What should we look forward to? More deaths?"

"That's always fun," Sansa replied.

"Behave," Jon said, sounding too much like Robb.

"Why?" Her eyes met his innocently.

"You _. . ._ " the words trailed off. There wasn't one thing that he could say to change or convince her. He fell into a surly silence.

"If you want me to stop, then distract me." She kissed the corner of his jaw.

His hands rushed out from under the covers and he grabbed her arms to hold her back. Varying emotions raced through him, tangling with each other, making them difficult to discern. "Stop."

Sansa moved closer at his plea. Was it a plea? "You want this." She kissed him again, her lips lingering against his skin as it drew nearer to his mouth.

Her arms were still captured in his grip as Jon stared at her and attempted to gather himself. He was reluctant to push her away yet unwilling to give in to her. Her lips begged for a kiss, glistening slightly under the glow of the light. He freed one arm, using his index finger to trace her soft, plump lower lip. His hand abruptly dropped like a weight and Jon shook his head. "You're messing with my head. This is all part of your plan."

"What plan?" Her lips closed the distance between them again.

"Your plan to destroy this town. Destroy _me_." He glared at her, reaffirmed in his fight to resist her.

"The only thing I want to destroy," she said against his ear, "is your bed." She sucked his earlobe into her mouth and Jon groaned.

He flattened her on the mattress and leaned over her. "When I get back," he promised.

* * *

Tension rippled through him as Robb drove them to the hospital where they were meeting up with Margaery and the others.

Robb mistook his mood for resentment over their conversation from last night. "We'll come back," he said as they stepped out the car.

"I don't think Sansa will act out again," Jon responded. He slid his hands into his pocket, walking with long strides into the building.

Robb's eyebrows shot up.

"We came to an agreement."

Robb's face fell. "Have you and Sansa . . . That's an even greater reason to leave."

It was risky for him to entertain Sansa, Jon knew. Another one of her games once he let her close was all it would take for him to derail. But staying away once he felt her lips on him was as impossible as turning off the love that still flowed through him for her. Heavy silence filled the space between them, worry driving deep grooves into Robb's brows although he didn't offer any further comments.

They made a brief visit to the second victim, whose name they learned was Hot Pie, before heading to Lommy's room. Their rooms were next to each other, making it easy for visitors to move between the two. The white gauze stood out against Lommy's pallid neck as they moved silently into the room. A group of well-wishers were already gathered near his bed, Margaery and Daenerys among them. Margaery smiled as soon as she spotted Robb.

"Hey you, you came." She wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug and Jon moved away so she wouldn't attempt to hug him too. He hung behind the others, not wanting to get too close, not wanting to be there at all. Sansa was waiting for him.

"Lommy's doing much better," Margaery said, as she led Robb closer to the bed. "He fell asleep a few minutes ago but he and Hot Pie are going to be just fine. The doctor said they should be able to go home in a few days." She looked up at Robb. "Have you visited Hot Pie?"

"Jon and I just came from there," Robb told her.

Margaery wore a satisfied smile. "I'm just glad everyone's going to be alright."

"Does he remember anything?" Jon asked, nodding toward the figure in the bed.

An older lady with curly blonde hair and green eyes sighed. She looked nearly identical to Lommy. "Another cougar attack," she said stroking her son's hair. "These cougars, they should all be hunted down and shot."

Daenerys gave a murmur of agreement as she wrapped her arms around her body.

"I can't believe the bar's security camera wasn't working. Just like at the restaurant," a dark haired man spoke from one of the chairs provided for visitors. "Why are we paying taxes, if the town's not using it to keep equipments working efficiently?"

"You know the town's not responsible, dear." Lommy's mother rubbed his shoulder soothingly.

Several minutes of quiet conversations filled the room as the visitors talked among themselves, until Margaery interrupted with an apologetic grimace. "Sorry, I'm starting to develop a really intense headache. I wish I could stay longer but I better head home before it gets worse." Her face flushed red.

"It's alright, dear. Thank you for coming," Lommy's mother said, giving her a farewell hug.

After exchanging a few more goodbye hugs, Margaery departed, Robb accompanying her to drop her off.

Jon's jaw worked as he watched the only reason he'd come in the first place disappear out the door. Fifteen minutes later, the rest of the visitors started to dissemble and he quietly slipped out like a shadow.

The estate was dark when he walked in. The thick curtains drawn to shut out the glaring rays. Exactly what would be expected from a place sheltering vampires. Everything was quiet, except for a faint noise drifting from the upper level. As he started up the stairs, his vampire hearing honed in on the sounds, and Jon stiffened as they became clearer.

Moans.

He stopped cold. The sound floated from one of the rooms. Which room?

He moved silently across the landing, his chest as still as the warm air cooling on his skin. The moans were distorted by the cacophony that exploded in his ears as his head spun, unable to focus. But there was a familiarity to them.

 _Was Sansa . . . ?_ He refused to finish the thought. Unable to listen anymore, Jon stumbled to his room, physically ill. He slumped onto his bed, a red haze darkening his vision as his hope shattered around him.

Purpose propelled him back up and he headed for the door. It would take the tiniest of efforts to rip out the throat of Sansa's new toy. He would worry about the consequences later. Jon's grip tightened on the doorknob.

* * *

SANSA arrived back at the estate, holding several bags of clothes she didn't really need. But the puke fest between her brother and the girl should be done. It was obvious where things were headed when Robb and the dismal girl had arrived at the house hand-in-hand after apparently sneaking from the hospital.

Sansa had blended into the background as she studied the girl, noting Robb's flickering eyes because he could feel her lurking. She'd misunderstood the first time she'd seen her brother hanging with the girl, thought she was simply an object for her brother to pass time with, but now Sansa could see that this Margaery was a potential obstacle that would have to be dealt with. Robb couldn't have any tie to this town.

Robb's eyes melted as they ran over the girl, emanating a softness that was only supposed to be reserved for her. She would enjoy ripping the girl's throat open. The two had made their way upstairs, Robb's palm resting protectively against the girl's lower back, and as soon as his room door shut behind the two, Sansa made herself scarce.

It was an insult. How was a dishwater human getting some and she wasn't? Sansa made a face. She knew why. Jon was being difficult. Refusing to give in to her. He'd shown signs of succumbing earlier before leaving, but who knew where his mind was after spending hours away, with her brother probably drilling into him why he should stay away.

She reached the second floor, filtering out the sounds. Silence surrounded Robb's room, a promising sign. No dismal human to tempt her before she was ready for another explosion. Heavy pacing sounded from Jon's room, relentless. Sansa started toward his door then stopped, she needed to prepare.

She entered the guest room set aside for her. The drawers and closets contained enough of her clothing to last for months. She didn't plan on staying for months, but Sansa was anything but unprepared. Dumping the shopping bags on the floor, she pulled open the lingerie drawer. _What would Jon like best?_

He'd always loved her in violet and deep blue undergarments. A sheer, lacy teddy with a deep royal blue hue lay to the right of the drawer, begging for her attention. Sansa fingered the material, lifting the teddy slightly out of the folded pile as she considered it. Not eye catching enough. She replaced it and chose a galaxy purple one. She held it in front of her body and stepped back to get a good view in the mirror. _Stunning._ She laid the teddy on top of the bed then headed off for a bath.


	13. Chapter 13

HE'D calmed down enough to not follow through on his rash decision to kill whomever occupied Sansa's bed. But by the way his body was on edge, ready to fly into action at the littlest provocation, Jon knew that the string holding him together was seconds from being snipped, so he paced to distract himself. But there was little distraction to be found, so instead he tried to contain the beast that raged inside of him by putting one foot in front of the other, walking to one side of the room and then back again.

He turned away from the door and headed toward the window, then immediately turned and started back.

Sansa was never going to change. And that was something he had to accept. _Let her go._

The door to his bedroom opened, and a silent figure slipped in. Jon stiffened as his head snapped up to confront the unwelcomed presence. His expression darkened as his eyes fell on the intruder. Sansa.

She momentarily faltered at the look he turned on her, before the question in her eyes disappeared behind a blank slate.

"Came here to screw the leftover option?" Resentment laced his words.

"What?" Sansa replied. The innocent mask was back on her face.

"You heard me, Sansa. Get out." He stalked toward the door, nearly tearing it off its hinges as he threw it open for her.

Sansa followed. But instead of leaving, she slammed the door shut and leaned her back against it. Her azure eyes stared at him, clashing with the storm raging in his own. She won the stare off as Jon broke eye contact with her to escape the simultaneous softening of his stance and the swell of jealousy as he imagined some bastard running his hands down her smooth cheeks and devouring her lips.

A heavy silence permeated the room, widening the gulf between them. He turned to feast on the sight of her again, unable to resist her. "How was your play toy?"

Sansa's expression remained blank, then a knowing look settled on her face. "Jonny, that wasn't me you were hearing. That was my taste lacking brother with his charity case of the day; Mar-gaery." Her distaste for the girl was evident in her tone.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Sansa replied. A satisfied smile tugged at her lips. "Did it make you jealous, the thought of me with someone else? You can have me if you want."

Jon swallowed down the gravel clogging his throat. Relief battled with pride which battled with rapidly spreading lust. "I was going to kill him, whoever it was."

"It was no one." Her fingers skimmed the neckline of her teddy.

"Nice outfit." His eyes dropped to the constellation glowing against her lingerie.

Sansa gave a little shrug. "I needed something eye-catching."

Jon backed away as she advanced toward him, desire burning in her eyes, sexual allure swinging from her hips, and a smile curving her lips. "What do you want?" he asked, as his back made contact with his bedroom wall.

"I want you," Sansa whispered. Her eyes were bottomless pits as they stared into him, deep as the sea.

Jon returned the steady stare, holding her gaze long enough to permanently imprint their burning intensity into his mind. Then he closed his eyes, savoring the feelings her words ignited. _Me. She wants_ me.

"I don't believe you." His eyes remained closed, unwilling to allow reality to intrude.

"You should." Her lips brushed his ear.

"Lie." His eyes drew open as he felt her auburn curls running along his skin like silk. His fingers tangled in them, tightening to pull her closer.

"Not this time," she promised.

"What about the next time?"

Her lips parted and time seemed to freeze. A sharp knock sounded on the door, and Sansa turned away as she headed to open it. She smiled widely at Robb who paused in the doorway, his eyes traveling back and forth between the two. Sansa slipped past him and disappeared out of view.

Jon's question hung in the air, the lack of answer and her absence making them grow heavier and heavier until he was flooded with doubt once again.

"I came to check up on you. See if you were alright. Guess I should have come sooner." Robb's eyes were wary, as if expecting a sudden transformation.

Jon pulsed with annoyance and relief at Robb's interruption. "I'm fine." He picked up a sports cap and raised it in Robb's direction. "Cheers."

"Cheers to what?" Robb leaned against the doorpost.

"To screwing old girlfriends," Jon replied.

Robb groaned and left, the door shutting after him.

Jon dropped the carefree act and faced the turmoil raging inside of him. He was uncertain and that didn't sit well with him. It made him edgy which led to him being impulsive. One impulsive vampire was deadly. But two . . . Winter Town would never survive such a bloodbath.


	14. Chapter 14

SANSA

SHE was agitated. Strung up from the pleasure her body was denied due to Robb's intrusion. Sansa hated to admit that she'd wanted release badly. Almost as much as Jon. It was too soon to start working on seducing him again without seeming needy. She rolled over, staring at the ceiling. A town like Winter Town was her worst nightmare. A black vacuum of unrelenting boredom sucking the air out of her.

This tendency of hers to get bored easily was one of the reasons why she never stayed in one location too long. Even Paris, as much as she loved living there, she occasionally left to go on short excursions before returning to her luxurious apartment in the city of lights.

Sansa sat up. Boredom could wait. There were two final people to be taken care of. And these ones would ensure that Jon and Robb realized she meant business. If all went well, she wouldn't have to spend a day longer in this town. A smile of anticipation stretched her lips.

The sunlight was little more than a warm kiss against her skin thanks to her age and vigorous diet of human blood. Jon's and Robb's abnormality of feeding on animals when they settled into a town was not an affliction that she shared, but it was one that she was determined to cure them of.

The cut and fit of her clothing whispered a quiet luxury that distinguished her from the lower middle class residents strolling around her. Their undistinguished outfits screamed a sad story of mundane, insignificant lives. Her designer boots clicked against the cream colored pavement, drawing looks of green-eyed envy from the passing females and igniting looks of interest from the males.

Sansa glanced down at her manicured nails. They could do with a retouching before she parted ways with this town. She wrinkled her nose as she stepped into the nail salon. Its glass windows streamed light into the small space, and lavender seats clashed with the pastel blue walls. Winter Town's nail salon was as unimpressive as the rest of it; the quality questionable and the choices lacking. But she hadn't had her nails catered to in a while, so this was a sacrifice that she would have to make.

Sansa seated herself in an unoccupied chair and looked through a set of nail polishes neatly arranged on a countertop. An employee walked over to her. "Can I help you?" the lady asked, her voice containing the slightest trace of hostility.

Sansa slowly dragged her attention from the nail polishes and looked up at the woman who sported a bad dye-job of bright red hair. "Is there a problem?" The threat seeped into her voice as she stared deep into the manicurist's mossy green eyes.

The lady's expression turned blank. "No, not at all," she replied.

Sansa flashed a quick smile. "Good," she said. "Now sit down and do my nails."

"Right away," the manicurist replied, pulling out the seat opposite her.

After her nails were cleaned and treated, Sansa refocused her attention to the color palette. "Hmm." She studied her perfectly shaped nails and then the two polishes she had narrowed her choice down to. "I want the blue one—no the red one."

She turned to a random lady sitting close to her. "Which color do you think will suit me best?" She held up the bottles of nail polish.

"Blue," the lady replied.

"Paint my nails with the red one," Sansa ordered the manicurist.

The manicurist set to work with almost robotic motions while Sansa kept watch with a critical eye. When her nails were done and dried, she held them up for closer inspection. The manicurist's skills were basic, but the blood-red shade of the polish were its saving grace. It lay smoothly against her nails, gleaming at her like an invitation to draw blood from someone and watch it run down her fingers, confirming if it lived up to its name.

She left the nail salon without paying and strolled down the street. How could she isolate her final targets? Her brother had a disgusting obsession with one, and Jon hovered over the other. Currently, they were still in class, guarded by the two vampires. Sansa shook her head at Jon's and Robb's ridiculous need to play human to the extent they willingly subjected themselves to sitting through lectures. She headed to the school. A little waiting game was fine.

A stream of students headed out of the college building, while others lingered around the grassy lawn of the campus chatting. Her targets exited the building a few minutes later, Robb keeping close to the brown haired girl.

After a short farewell, the group split and Jon and Robb peeled away as they headed for their car. Sansa smiled at her luck. If she could separate the girls, she could get back before the guys returned home. Or else, they would realize the house was empty and come looking.

The girls walked to a separate dark blue car, driving off after buckling in. Robb's car headed in the same direction for a short while before diverging and heading toward the outskirts. Once he made it past the city limit, Sansa knew she had fifteen minutes at the most to complete her task. She could move faster than a car which was too big to flash with. But vampires could push the gas to an insane speed without worry of dying in a wreck.

She tailed the blue car as it moved through the streets, watching as it parked in front of a small two story house. Margaery and Daenerys exited from the front of the car and two other girls emerged from the back seats. Minor inconvenience, but she could take care of them too.

As the group headed to the front door of the house, Sansa made her move. "Stop," she commanded.

The group of girls halted, varying looks of confusion spreading across their faces as they faced her.

"Aren't you—?" Daenerys started.

Sansa didn't give her a chance to finish. She struck with precise force. Knocking Daenerys to the ground as she leapt at the girl and buried her teeth in her neck. Screams shattered the silence brought on by shock and confusion as Margaery and the remaining girls attempted to flee.

But Sansa was quicker. A tear through the jugular took care of the two girls, until only Margaery remained, trembling and ghostly; her eyes widened, taking up half her face.

Sansa grabbed her arm. "We're going to have a little fun." She flashed them to the forest, the wind smacking in their faces as the background rushed by. A mile seemed to pass in a second, one instant they were surrounded by blood and bodies, the next the scent of uncovered earth filled their noses and small animals scurried around them.

Sansa released her and Margaery collapsed to the ground, heaving up the contents of her stomach.

"Call Robb." Sansa pulled the girl up and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. She pushed it against her ear. "Sound happy."

Margaery opened her mouth and instantly doubled over again, releasing another round of bile.

"Fine." Sansa rolled her eyes. "I guess we'll do it the easy way." She stared into the girl's eyes as they turned blank. "Call Robb. Tell him you're going on a camping trip out of state and will be gone for the next several days." She dialed Robb's number and pushed the phone against Margaery's ear, glaring at her until the call picked up and she started to speak.

"Hi, Robb—Yeah, I'm fine—listen, I'm leaving for a camping trip with my brother in a few minutes. He lives in Montana and I'm meeting him there, so I just wanted to call and let you know that I will be gone for a few days. . . . Okay . . . I will. Bye." Margaery hung up and placed her phone back into her pocket. She silently glanced at Sansa.

"All done?"

Margaery nodded.

"Good." Sansa sank her teeth into the girl's neck.


	15. Chapter 15

SIRENS screamed and wailed, their urgency sending dread crawling through him. Landing like heavy weights at the bottom of his stomach.

Robb faced him, his eyes shooting the same message that Jon's mind was already shouting. He parked the car along the stretch of trees, and they got out, flashing to the mansion much quicker, without the weight of metal and iron restricting their speed.

"Sansa!" Robb bellowed. He was in front of her door before the name was fully out. Robb threw her bedroom door open, taking only a second to access the empty room. "She's gone."

Jon led the way back down, their feet barely touching the stairs, before they slammed through the door. The two didn't speak as they flashed through the streets, heading toward the screeching sirens.

Yellow tape and a hysterical crowd met them as they arrived at the scene. Paramedics arrived seconds later, halting next to the commotion and jumping out, medical equipment in their hands.

Robb pushed people out of the way, he seemed to be compelled by guilt as he drew nearer, intent on confirming his sister's latest victims.

"It's Daenerys. Beth. And Jeyne," a lady with reddened cheeks and weeping eyes whispered to no one in particular.

A weight built in his chest and Jon made his way to the front of the crowd, his eyes confirming the lady's words.

Daenerys' eyes were closed. The vibrant violet stare that haunted and taunted him locked away forever.

"She's alive," Robb whispered for only him to hear. "The other two are gone."

The tension slowly loosened its grip on Jon's body.

"We need to find Sansa." Robb pushed out of the crowd and disappeared in a flash, already yards away before Jon caught up.

"Maybe she left!" Jon shouted. It was difficult to talk with the wind grabbing his words away and roaring in his ears.

Robb shook his head, his red-brown curls rippling like waves. "She's still in town!"

"Then she wants us to find her. That's the only way she'll leave, if we go with her," Jon said.

"We can't leave. Not yet. Someone needs to be here when Daenerys wakes up. We need to fix this." Robb looked at him. "I need to find my sister. Can you go to the hospital?"

"I will," Jon said. Somberness hung around them as they arrived at their residence. The darkness of the house matched the turmoil growing inside of him. "I should have watched Daenerys today. I really thought Sansa wouldn't . . ."

Robb placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's my fault. Everything is my fault. I told the man that made us this if she goes out, I will have to go out with her because I couldn't survive losing her too. . . And even now, I still can't survive losing her."

"No one's going out." Jon gritted his teeth. "We'll just get her out of town and stay away until she loses interest. Like you said." He left Robb sitting on the sofa and headed up to his room.

He yanked open his top drawer, tearing it out of its hinges as he dug for his past. Placing the drawer on the dresser top, he pulled out article after article of clothing, until he finally reached what he was looking for. Jon pulled out the small object, the age of it a contrast to the modern decor all around him.

The picture fell to the floor, his fingers numb as his eyes latched on to the violet eyes staring up at him, soft and familiar but unfamiliar. Jon shoved the picture into his jacket pocket and headed to the hospital.

* * *

"I wiped her memory. There were about ten other people in the hospital room, so I had to alter theirs too." Jon crashed down on the sofa; he'd done too much without the proper amount of blood to boost him.

Robb patted his back. "You'll feed soon."

Jon raised his head and glanced around the room. "Is Sansa back?"

"She's waiting in the forest. Do you have what you're taking? We're leaving." Robb headed for the door.

Jon patted the photo buried in the pocket of his jacket. "I have everything."

"We'll feed first in the closest town, then we'll put as much distance as we can between Sansa and Winter Town," Robb said, leading the way toward where Sansa waited.

The familiar landmarks and houses blended together into a blur and the sirens turned into distorted howls as they moved through the town, making their way to the forest. The higher their speed, the harder it was for the human eye to see them as they flashed. Anyone that they passed experienced a mysterious gush of strong wind that swept away as quickly as it appeared.

Sansa glowed with satisfaction as they approached her. "Ready to go?"

Robb grabbed Jon's arm and took off after his sister as she disappeared in a blur of wind and speed. Although Jon was drained, the tension of the day started to melt away as it mixed with the rising thrill of a proper meal.

They stopped in a city that was triple the size of Winter Town. Car horns pierced the air as traffic built up at stop signs, and graffiti painted the side of every few buildings. After scoping it out, they retreated to the forest until midnight fell.

The previously buzzing city had settled into a waiting silence, street lights shone dimly on deserted streets as darkness drove the residents into their homes. The sound of shouting and shattering glass traveled from several blocks away. They flashed to the location, startling a group of vandalizers as they appeared next to them.

"Who the fuck are you?" exclaimed a reedy guy with tattoos crawling up his neck. He turned away from the shop he and his group were trying to break into.

A bulkier guy next to him reached into his pocket, his eyes trained on Jon and Robb. His action encouraged a similar movement in the guys around him. A flash of steel peeked out of his hand before it clattered to the ground and his wrist snapped with a sickening crack.

Sansa smiled as his eyes widened at her. Several of the group members backed away, their hands dropping from their pockets; two others lunged forward, razors drawn. They slashed at empty air as Sansa flashed behind them and tore out their jugulars in quick succession.

Jon's fangs rushed down, eager to feed as the eruption of blood drenched their clothes and incited his hunger. No longer under the restriction of having to contain it, he finished the job Sansa had started, burying his incisors into the throats of the guys bleeding out on the ground.

Their blood rushed through him, igniting every part of his body in euphoria. Sounds exploded through his eardrums, noises from miles away reaching him clearer than before. The darkness seemed to brighten before stabilizing, everything sharply focused. He fed until his body tingled with energy and barely contained potency. Then Jon stood up, blood running down his chin and contentment singing through him.

A whimper from several yards away reached his ears, and he sprung forward, seeming to reach the guy in one forward motion.

"Stay away from me!" It was the same reedy vandalizer. His razor glistened brightly under the streetlight. His tattoos stood in stark contrast to his pallid neck. "I'll—!"

The words died in his throat, turning into a gurgle as Jon tore through the white column of his neck with ease, feeding until his body filled with sweet bliss. Jon wiped his mouth as he stepped back from the drained body, letting it slump to the ground before he flashed back to the others.

Sansa stood back watching Robb feed, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"Aren't you going to feed?" he asked her. Drained bodies littered the ground.

Sansa pushed away from the wall of the shop, a smile spreading across her face as she contemplated before answering. "I'm not _that_ hungry. I admit, I had a little snack on . . . Margaery, was it?"

"Sansa," Robb choked out, and then he was gone in a flash.

Sansa stared after the direction her brother disappeared in before facing Jon. "I decided that I didn't want him coming with us after all. Imagine trying to have sex on the jet with big brother listening." She ran her fingers down Jon's chest. "I think you will be enough."


	16. Chapter 16

THE bodies were disposed of in the forest, to be discovered after wild animals had feasted on the flesh. A midnight trek into the wild turned fatal. At least that's what Jon hoped it would be written off as.

They covered the miles to the airport in what seemed like a minute, propelled by the surge from a fresh freed. Sansa's jet was a sleek royal blue Gulfstream; it gleamed underneath the moonlight, beckoning them with its beauty. The pilot was already waiting in the cockpit as if he'd never left.

"Has he been sitting there waiting for you since you stepped off the jet?" Jon asked.

"He's probably been feeding." She shrugged at Jon's look of disbelief. "Where can I find a better pilot? Now he can fly me forever."

"Sansa, you just can't go around turning people. And what would Robb say?"

She shrugged again, not sharing in his concern.

"And what about her?" Jon nodded toward a flight attendant that stood in the entrance.

"Replaceable," Sansa said.

The attendant greeted them, a smile pasted on her face. "Welcome aboard the Sansa."

"You named your jet after yourself?" Jon smirked.

"Who else?" Sansa strolled toward a plump cushioned chair and sank into it with a sigh.

Jon sat on the chair next to her watching her for a second. "Where are we off to?"

"Paris," she replied, without opening her eyes.

"For what?"

"Are you missing someone in Winter Town?" Sansa asked. Her eyes flickered open, languidly traveling up his frame. "A girl?"

"Stop deflecting." Jon turned to look out the window as the jet took off into the star littered sky.

"I want to finish what we started."

Thousands of miles in the sky, in the enclosed space of the jet, it was easier to get her to talk.

" _You_ ended what we had." The stars twinkled at him, reminding him of that far away night that still haunted him. Everything had been perfect. The moon had been luminous, like a giant disco ball only displaying one color—the perfect spotlight of pale silver. The stars were a blaze of tiny back ups, lending their encouragement.

"I didn't want a marriage."

"So you thought it better to just run off?"

"I told you I panicked. Space seemed right for the both of us."

"For you maybe," Jon mumbled.

Her rejection had brought him to his knees, his legs collapsing underneath him. He'd punched a tree stump until his fists had turned into a bloody mess. Within minutes, the wound had healed, sealing the evidence of his anguish. Gone, just like she was. Disappeared into the night.

"If I said no and then stuck around, you would have acted like a kicked puppy. Maybe I didn't want to see that."

Jon mulled over her words as he studied the constellation spread out beyond the window.

"Let's not focus on the past." Sansa's voice was closer than before.

He felt her hand on his shoulder and turned to face her. "The past is usually a good indication of how the future will be."

Sansa sighed. "You're thinking too much."

"You're not thinking at all."

"And you shouldn't either. At least not right now." She pressed a kiss to his jaw. "Let's go to the stateroom," she whispered.

Jon nodded after a while. His nod was a grant of permission that Sansa didn't hesitate to accept. She jumped up from her seat and led the way to the stateroom. She entered after him and slid the pocket door shut before sliding past him to the divan. Sansa gave him a come-hither look as she pulled him down beside her and positioned herself in his lap.

"Finally." Her voice came out as a breathy sigh before her lips connected with his in a violent clash of passion and she purred happily as Jon's tongue invaded her mouth. "More," she growled, and thrust her head back in pleasure when he attacked her clothes. She'd always loved it rough.

Jon's kisses chased down the length of her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin as his lips made their way back up before he moved on impatiently to her breasts, sucking and licking each area of skin his lips came in contact with.

Her clothes fell away with the loud tearing of fabric. This was what she did to him. She stripped away all of his barriers and exposed him at his rawest. He was an animal; primal and uncaring of anything else until he was satiated.

Sansa ripped off Jon's shirt, and his pants soon followed suit. They were both so frenzied that a drawn out foreplay would be useless at this point. She was stronger due to age and an unrestricted feeding habit, but she willingly succumbed to his dominance.

Jon slammed her against the divan and swiftly impaled her in one fluid move. A whimper escaped Sansa's lips and he lowered his face to her neck to inhale the scent of her. She was intoxicating beyond belief. Everything that he'd spent the last three hundred years longing for. Sansa moaned as Jon started to move against her.

Jon nipped at her shoulder. "Think the jet will survive?" he murmured into her ear.

"Yes," she gasped.

He flipped them over so she was astride him, and Sansa instantly went to work, starting out slowly then increasing the momentum until she was riding him hard and fast. Jon grasped her hips to slow her as he felt his release threatening to erupt. After taking a few seconds to get his body under control, he took over, thrusting into her tight, hot heat at a steady, firm pace until they were both moaning uncontrollably.

Sansa climaxed first, arching her back and gasping out his name. He watched the beautiful image she presented as she was caught up in her release, until with a final thrust, his overcame him too.

"Sansa," he grunted out as his body jerked. She stilled for a moment, teasing him, before starting up again to help him ride out his orgasm. A new orgasm nearly overtook him as he watched the entrancing scene of her cunt swallowing his entire length as she rode him until he was completely sated. Jon sagged against the bed a few seconds later and sighed, fully satisfied.

"Did you miss me while I was gone?" Her tone was nonchalant and teasing as she stroked her fingers lazily down his chest.

"You already know the answer." Jon folded his arms behind him and rested his head on them.

"Is that a yes?" she insisted, moving in a way that made him grab her hips.

"Figure it out," Jon said, holding her still.

Sansa shrugged innocently.

Jon sighed. "Yes, Sansa, if you must know. But only because the town girls were . . . What was it?" He tapped his chin. "Dishwater."

Sansa laughed as she stood up. "How about a shower?"


	17. Chapter 17

"LET'S go feed." Sansa stared at him, her eyebrow raised, daring him. They were now in Paris, headed toward Sansa's apartment, or they were supposed to be. But they had detoured and were currently in Pigalle, the Red Light District, where the city congregated for their nightlife adventures. "This is the best hunting spot. Once night time falls, there's endless meals to choose from." She glanced around at the swell of people already out and about, strolling around under the buttery rays of the sun. "Daytime options aren't that bad either."

"We just ate. An entire meal."

"I didn't." She headed toward the cluster of stores, scoping the passersby as she did. It was a mixture of citizens and picture snapping tourists, not paying attention as they walked. "With all these alleys, it's so easy to grab someone and disappear before anyone notices." She stopped in her tracks and faced him. "Grab someone."

"I'm not hungry." Jon looked around, a group walked close by, laughing as they pointed at a display in one of the stores. A lady dressed in a pink shirt and cream colored slacks strolled close behind, her hand gripped around her purse.

Sansa shook her head at him, then she was gone, the lady in the pink shirt was also nowhere to be seen.

Jon located Sansa in a nearby alley, feeding on the woman who was turning a pasty pale. "How do you cover your tracks when you feed?"

"I get creative. Here." Sansa shoved the woman at him and he caught her. Dark splotches of blood were caught in her blonde hair, and Jon moved the strands out of the way until the wound in her neck was visible.

 _Don't do it._ Robb's voice swelled fiercely in his head. _Only feed when you're hungry._

Jon shook the voice out of his head. _I can control it._ He wasn't going to derail again, feeding just to feed, like . . . he looked at Sansa. She stared at him expectantly. _Just this one time._ Jon lowered his mouth to the woman's neck and fed.

The lady slumped to the ground when he released her, and Sansa sidled up to him. "Good."

Jon wiped his mouth, still on a high from the blood intake.

"Don't," Sansa said, pushing his hand away. She licked the blood from his lips, her eyes darkening. "Mmm. Now let's get rid of it."

They ended up at the Seine river. Sansa led the way through the street-level embankment as she headed down the narrow steps to access the lower quayside near the riverbank, before heading to the tunnels under bridge. "Here," she said pointing. "Thieves and gangs will do the rest. They'll get rid of the body too."

Jon dropped the body where Sansa pointed, the woman's bloodless grey skin a pale drop against the dark grey cobblestones. The water lapped against the bank, sparkling as the sun hit it. The bright blue sky and white cotton candy clouds framed the opening of the tunnel, a contrast to the death that lay inside.

"That's how easy it is." Sansa pressed against him. "A mugging gone bad. Her purse won't be here long."

"Her neck."

Sansa rolled her eyes. "You worry too much. I've done this for decades and vampires have yet to escape anyone's mouth. Rats or criminals will find her before the police. We have more important things to worry about."

"Tell me about them," Jon said, capturing her waist.

Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck. "I have a problem that's top priority."

* * *

Her apartment was a multilevel penthouse located two minutes from Champs Elysées. The highest level featured a landscaped terrace, accessible from the spacious kitchen, dining room, and living room; and only outdone by a wraparound roof terrace with panoramic views of the Parisian skyline. The Eiffel tower appeared a stone throw away in the distance, its lights blazing against the darkening sky. Jon hadn't expected anything less.

Sansa pushed open the door to her bedroom, it seemed big enough to take up the entire floor. The wall was lined by large windows, and a neatly tied curtain revealed a glass door leading out to a personal balcony.

"Great place," Jon said.

"No touching." Sansa smacked his hands away as he reached for her. She backed up a few steps and clicked on the television mounted on the wall.

"Wow," Jon said as the screen came to life. He coughed to clear his voice which sounded stuck in his throat.

"It's a tape of mine. Your present. I had a lot of fun making it. It was just waiting for you to arrive."

"Confident in your persuading skills, huh?" He headed toward where she stood.

"You're here, aren't you?" She smirked as her hands went to the hem of her shirt and lifted.

"I'm going to combust if you do that while this is playing," Jon warned, his eyes flickering to the television and back to her.

His words only seemed to encourage her as she circled a finger around the button of her figure hugging pants. The button popped open with a snap, revealing a glimpse of the wine-colored panties underneath. She peeled the two garments away from her skin before lowering them. They slid down her limbs like butter, until there was nothing left to cover her creamy skin.

His groaned elicited a gleam in her eyes before she spread herself on the bed. The sight of her on the mattress harkened back to her on the divan and all the previous times in the past. Jon tore off his layers of clothing until he could join his bare skin with hers. Together their bodies created a relentless tempo. Heat rose up between them, generated by the friction of their bodies colliding. A crack appeared in the wall as the headboard hammered it, like veins running through the recently smooth surface.

Their movements stilled as they both reached their climax. His body seemed to melt against hers, melding together all the places they fit together so perfectly. Only the background noise remained as sawdust danced above them and fluttered down around their heads.

"A dust shower," Jon laughed.

"A hole in my wall," Sansa said, but her eyes glowed with amusement. And then the moment was gone as she pushed him off so she could sit up.

"We need to talk. About this. About us," Jon said, as she threw on a dark silk jumper.

Sansa groaned. "Don't ruin it, Jon."

Jon clicked off the television as she left the room, leaving only silence behind. His phone rang and he leapt out of the bed to reach it.

"Just checking up on you," Robb's voice came through on the other side; a mixture of worry, guilt, and relief too heavy to be only directed at him.

"How's Margaery?" Jon picked his pants up from the floor and pulled it on.

Relief flooded Robb's words. "She's recovering. I found her in the forest. Sansa didn't kill—" The heaviness seeped back into his voice. "I'm so _angry_ at her."

Get in line.

"Where's Sansa?" Robb asked.

"Out." Jon changed the topic. "So what's going on? What's the town saying about the attacks? Or have you wiped them? The semester's done in two weeks. Why not do it early?"

"About that." Robb hesitated. "I'm not wiping Margaery."

"What?" Jon dropped the shirt he had started shrugging into.

"I altered her memory about the attack, of course. But I'm not wiping her memory of me."

"What? That's going to screw everything up. What about the rest of the town?" Jon paced the bedroom.

"I'll figure it out. I'll call you again when I decide."

"Shit, Robb, why not just kidnap the girl and bring her here?"

"Your joke is not funny," Robb told him before hanging up.

"It's not a joke." Jon dropped the silent phone and retrieved his shirt from the floor. He needed to clear his head. He yanked the shirt on and headed for the door. Robb's words whipped around in his head, propelled by the raging torpedo of his emotions as Sansa's words slipped in to fuel the chaos. Love. It screwed everything up. Made them all victims of its callous path. Robb's decision about Margaery was just one more evidence of that.


	18. Chapter 18

_THE group laughed, throwing pieces of bread at one another and flicking water from their canteens. "Stop wasting food," one of the girls scolded._

 _One of the guys ripped another section of his bread, rolled it up, and aimed. It bounced off her shoulder, dissolving the rest of the girls into a chorus of giggles._

 _Their happiness irked him as he watched from the edges of the tree where the darkness blanketed. Their carefree laughter spilled out between the thin barks, making him curl his lip in disgust. What did they know about happiness? It was a ruse. Easily ripped away to leave nothing behind but despair and darkness. Their laughter swelled, assaulting his ears, and then the group paired off two by two and began dancing around the bonfire. The fire flickered upward as if reaching for the audience of stars above._

 _Enough._

 _He moved in to dole out his wrath. By the time Jon finished feasting, the only movement that remained was from the flickering embers and rustling treetops._

The young campers had been the last he'd gone after in his rampage before Robb had swiftly stepped in. The disappearance of a group of young scholars camping in the forest had caused a panic that spread throughout cities nearby.

Jon pushed the memory out of his mind. There was no time for regret. The past was done and dwelling on it only led to redundant emotions. He wasn't going on a rampage to reign terror fueled by an insatiable thirst for destruction. _This time,_ he told himself as he slammed out of Sansa's apartment, _I'm simply feeding to clear my head._

The sky resembled a darkening bruise, its deep blue hue stretching across the horizon and littered with sooty grey clouds. Various multistory buildings blotted out patches of sky and the lights pouring from stores and strung around trees dulled the already darkening sky. It was one of the things Jon hated most about cities.

Champs-Élysées was more upscale than the section he and Sansa had explored earlier. The sidewalks had a glossy marble finish, and the glass store fronts boasted the finest quality. Business men walked around in their polished suits, and the clothing donned by passersby were more high-end. A crush of pedestrians roamed the streets and Jon shoved his hands into his pocket as he blended in with the crowd.

"Bonjour êtes-vous à la recherche de quelqu'un?"

He looked toward his right where two girls leaned against a building. Both held bottles of what appeared to be liquor, and were draped in thin flimsy materials that somewhat resembled dresses.

The one that had spoken smiled as she caught his attention. "Tu es pressé? Tu as du temps pour t'amuser?" She twirled a finger in her blonde curls.

Her friend approached him, stiff brown hair curtained around her face, she allowed her fingers to linger on his shoulder. "We'll only charge half the price because you look like you'll make it worth our time. Veux-tu?"

Jon studied the two, allowing his eyes to roam over them from head to toe. Sex workers. He usually stayed away from feeding on them, better safe than sorry. Not that he would get sick from drinking contaminated blood if they had a disease, but the benefit was dismal, and the taste bitter enough to linger in his mouth for days. It wasn't worth the effort. "Not today," he told them. Not ever.

"Please." The first girl grabbed his wrist as he started to move along. "It will be good."

Jon allowed them to pull him along the dark streets, worming through the crowd. If they were that desperate, was their life really worth living? "Here," he said, as they neared a dark alcove.

"Non, viens avec nous. We have a nice bed," the brunette promised, tugging at his arm.

He let them lead him further, luring them into believing they had convinced him, before he pulled the two into a dark alley. The girls instantly went into high alert, their liquor bottles became weapons as they smashed it into the concrete wall, reducing it to lethal looking jagged edges. They were smarter than they looked.

"Drop it." Jon watched as their weapons clattered to the ground. "Stay," he instructed the blonde, before he grabbed her friend. Her blood tasted sweet, untainted. He sank his teeth farther into her neck until his grip was the only thing holding her up. Once he finished feeding on her, he drained the blonde before dropping her next to her friend.

Jon bent over the two bodies, studying them where they lay slumped next to one another, the determination gone from their empty eyes. He should really start feeding without killing his targets. But once the rich nectar of human blood entered his system, it was hard to stop before draining his prey. He glanced toward the alley's opening to the unsuspecting world beyond. A small figure disappeared out of view and Jon flew to his feet. He headed in its direction, flashing out of the darkened alley, but only the usual crowd met him as he stepped out onto the busy streets of the avenue into the oblivious stream of humans. Probably a misbehaving youth trying to sniff out a corner to cause trouble in. The alley was too dark for any human to have properly seen into it. He shrugged it off as he started back toward Sansa's apartment.

"You went hunting," Sansa said, as she took in his blood-soaked attire.

"It wasn't a hunt. I needed some air." Jon pulled off his shirt. "Robb's screwing things up because of his girlfriend, and refusing to wipe her memory."

Disgust crossed Sansa's features. "I should have killed her."

"It's your fault you know."

"That Robb's wasting his time on some pathetic human?" Sansa shuddered. "Never."

"You know what I mean," Jon said, as he headed to find a shower.

"Use the master bathroom," Sansa called after him. "It has everything you need."

"I don't want to smell like your girly soaps, Sansa."

"I have a variety. Some might even suit your manly tastes." She followed him to the bathroom connected to her bedroom.

"You have a collection for all the toys you bring over?" Jon picked up several body wash bottles and read the labels before sniffing the fragrance.

"Just the special ones," Sansa replied, as she turned on the shower.

He eliminated the bottles one by one until only a clear bottle containing dark gold liquid remained in his hand, then he turned to Sansa. "I want to shower alone." Her eyes met his, their intensity hard to penetrate as he held her stare.

"Suit yourself," she said, before stepping out the room.

Jon shut the bathroom door, resting his forehead against it for a second. Only silence traveled through the wooden frame, and he moved away to go wash off.


	19. Chapter 19

SANSA was waiting in her bedroom when he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel still slung around his hips. She flung a pair of shirt and jeans at him. Jon caught them, turning them over and inspecting them. "Those should fit you," she said. She relaxed against the pillows, allowing her eyes to roam over his bare chest and torso. When her eyes trailed down to his hips, he casually dropped the towel, feigning oblivion to the heat that entered her eyes, etching into his skin as he checked the shirt for wrinkles before pulling it on.

"Have any plans?" Jon asked as he finished pulling on the pants and tugging the zippers up.

"I think they were just rejected," Sansa remarked.

"Shame."

She pulled a razor out of her bag that looked suspiciously similar to the one belonging to the vandalizers they'd left behind in the States. "A souvenir." Sansa smirked at Jon's look of confusion. "Need a haircut?" she asked.

"You know it would just grow right back." Jon had discovered that the first time he'd attempted to get a buzzcut. The horrified barber's legs had collapsed beneath him, sending the middle-aged man plunging to the black and white checkered floor as Jon's hair returned to its normal length seconds after being buzzed.

"It's always fun to slice things off anyway." Sansa flipped the razor between her fingers.

"What's so special about that razor?" Jon asked as she placed it into her drawer.

"The three of us hadn't gone hunting together in a while."

Centuries.

"It was fun. I wanted to keep something to remember it." She shut the drawer and stood up. "Let's go clubbing."

"Clubbing?"

"Dancing. Whatever."

"Are you going to be wearing that?" he asked. She now donned a thin spaghetti strap outfit that struggled to pass as a proper dress. The fabric seemed transparent as it clung to her soft curves, hinting too clearly at what was underneath.

Sansa fingered the mauve-colored material, posing her body in a way that caused the hem to climb up her upper thighs. "It serves its purpose."

Jon shrugged. "Let's go then." He held up a finger as she started walking. "Although I forgot to hide the bodies I fed on. We might need to take care of them first."

They ended up back at the alley he'd left earlier. The dark, narrow space appeared undisturbed for the most part. The shattered liquor bottles remained where they'd fallen, and blood still darkened the grey cobblestones. Jon walked a few steps farther, his eyes running over the ground, then returning to the empty spots that shouldn't have been empty.

The bodies were gone.

"I left them here." He stared around the alley, slowly turning in a circle as he zeroed in on all possible hiding spots they could have been stashed. Had a human stumbled across them and called the police? But there would be a crime tape, a crowd. Someone keeping watch. But the flow of humans carried on as usual beyond the alley walls, unaware and unconcerned.

Sansa grabbed his hand. "Let's go. I'm bored."

"Sansa," he started, still checking for the missing bodies.

She jerked his arm, pulling him away until his eyes shifted to her.

Jon dug his feet into the ground, holding himself immobile until she was forced to stop. "Something took those bodies."

"Who cares? They handled the problem for you."

"What—"

"Let's just forget it. I want to have fun." She wound her arms around his neck until her body melded with his and her lips were a millimeter away. "If not with you, then with someone else." Sansa released him and turned without another word, heading out the alley.

His eyes drifted to the hem of her dress as it shifted higher with each stride of her long legs. Jon threw one more glance at the empty alley before following after her.

The music picked up as they drew closer to the nightclubs. The crowd diversified to a mixture of young partygoers, couples on dates, groups of friends out celebrating, and the occasional businessman walking hastily by. A man coughed as he headed in the opposite direction, his eyes sliding to the neckline of Sansa's low-cut dress.

Jon closed the distance between them as they walked through the maze of people, moving nearer until he was close enough to reach out and touch her.

A flash of light lit up the sidewalk as two college-aged guys stopped to take a selfie. One pulled sunglasses out of his pocket and slipped it on his face before retaking the picture. He elbowed his friend as his eyes flickered toward Sansa. The friend seemed the bolder of the two as he pushed his cap up, a leer stretching his features. "Looking like a snack," he muttered as his hand grazed against her breast.

Sansa stiffened, a growl rumbling in her chest, too low to be picked up by the humans squeezing past them on the crowded walkway, but the sound sent a faint vibration running through Jon. He placed a steadying hand against her back. "No need to mess up your pretty dress," he whispered as he fell into step beside her.

Her fingers brushed against his for a millisecond, long enough to send tingles running up his arms. He straightened his back and moved even closer, until wayward strands of her hair clung to the sleeves of his shirt. His fingers started toward hers again of their own accord, wanting to feel the weight of her hands and her fingers interlaced with his. He balled his hands up and stuffed them into his pockets.

"We're here." Sansa held out her arm toward a sleek grey building, its entrance framed by a shade of metallic silver that reflected their images back at them. They cut through the line of hopefuls at the door and made their way to the front. "I'm a regular," she explained as they were waved in.

The inside of the club was expansive. Rectangular light panel shone dimmed pink-tinted light onto the large dance floor taking up the center of the room, framed by the tables and sofas that were situated near the wall.

The tables were packed, although with each drink ordered, the tables emptied and the number of people on the dance floor grew. Some of the outfits made Sansa appear overdressed in her skimpy dress. A group of enthusiastic guys cheered on a figure dancing in a two-piece outfit with a thonglike bottom.

A man approached their table, dressed in a sky-blue shirt and dress pants. "A free drink for the lady," he said, placing a glass in front of her.

Sansa ran her finger along the rim of the glass. "My lucky night."

The guy's cheeks flushed a bright red. "Let-let me know if you need another cup," he told her, before leaving their table.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you come here for the free drinks," Jon said, after the fifth free drink had been placed in front of her. He eyed the untouched glasses crowding her section of the table.

"I do." Sansa smirked. "Just not the kind they think."


	20. Chapter 20

JON grabbed one of the glasses in front of her. "You're not old enough for drinks," he deadpanned.

Sansa snarled at him. "Don't even."

He chuckled, his grey eyes swirling with amusement. The shirt she'd bought for him was a perfect fit, stretching tight against his sculpted abs. Sansa crossed her legs. She needed a good—

"Fuck."

Sansa blinked.

Jon gestured toward the glass. "It broke."

Her gaze fell on what was left of the margarita. Ice cubes lay scattered among shards of glass as the yellow tinted liquid spread across the table and soaked his shirt. Blood covered his hand and ran down his wrist, dripping onto the table and forming a small puddle that was hard to make out against the dark wooden surface in the dim lighting. Within seconds, the puddle of blood evaporated in a wisp of smoke.

"I need to go clean up," Jon said, getting to his feet. Splotches of blood marred his shirt.

"The bathroom's over there." Sansa pointed out the restrooms and watched as Jon made his way through the throng, covering his right hand which had already healed but was stained red from dry blood.

A cocktail waitress arrived at their table with a rag, and Sansa swiveled around in her stool to get a full view of the occupants while the waitress spread a rag out to sop up the spilled drink. She'd fed earlier after leaving Jon, but still would have no qualm about draining any of these pitiful souls. She stood up. She'd spent enough time sitting and her dress deserved more. Sansa headed over to the DJ station.

"Change the music," she ordered, staring into his eyes.

"What would you like to hear?" the DJ replied in a lifeless tone, his eyes stared dully into hers.

"Something good. With a heavy base. I want to dance." She headed toward the dance floor as the music dropped. The beat vibrated through her, pumping against her chest like an artificial heart. She moved her body, fighting to block out the images of Jon that immediately invaded her mind. With each drop of the base, bodies grinded together around her. Sansa closed her eyes and memories of Jon's intense love making swept through her body. Her nipples hardened, the sensation of them rubbing against the material of her shirt eliciting a moan from deep within her.

A growing crowd of men formed around her, dancing as close to her as they could without making body contact. The beat carried her away, her surrounding diminishing to a backdrop of flashing lights and dark moving silhouettes. Her hands ran up and down her body, her mind conjuring images of Jon's hands taking their place and trailing down to her swinging hips. A round of wolf whistles filled the air, piercing through the haze.

The images started to brighten as she focused, features of writhing bodies coming into focus. A figure pushed forward, the mob of men parting like a sea to let him through. His previously stained shirt was spotless as he stopped in front of her.

Sansa stared at her reflection in the grey-tinted mirrors of his eyes and watched as a sultry grin curved her lips. "Jonny, want to dance?"

* * *

 _SHIT, I should have known._ Jon stared at the source of the loud cheering and whistling.

He'd followed the noise as soon as he'd returned to an empty table, pushing through the dance floor packed with men. Now he could see why.

Sansa.

Her dress stopped right below her ass cheeks, rising to give a small peek with each twist of her body.

He readjusted his pants, glaring at a guy that drew close to Sansa's left side until the man melted back into the crowd. Jon positioned himself behind her, framing her hips with his hands as he pulled her against him.

"Jon." Her voice was a soft moan as she ground against him.

"Have you been being naughty?" he murmured into her ear.

"I couldn't help it." The back of her dress rose as she pushed against him, trapped against their grinding bodies, until her bare cheeks rubbed against his jeans.

The music faded and the background fell away, transporting him to another dance on another night. The flashing lights were replaced by the steady stream of moonlight and countless glowing stars. The crowd of bodies became a grove of trees.

 _Jon took her hand and twirled her around the clearing they were using as their dance floor. Her eyes glowed under the pale wash of the moon, her teeth a white flash as he dipped her. His eyes caught on the dark shape of a stray leaf tangled in her hair, and Jon plucked it out, the moist leaf soft against his palm as he tickled her nose with the tip._

 _She laughed, a lilting sound that blended with the chirping of birds around them, before pressing closer to him, snuggling against his shoulder_

 _"I love you." The words sprung to his tongue and out of his mouth._

 _Sansa pressed her lips against his in reply._

The memory dissolved, the taste of her lips still vivid. Jon jerked down the hem of Sansa's dress and spun her around to face him. "I'll give you what you want. Let's go."

He led her through the dance floor, barreling ahead through the packed floor as he cleared a pathway for them. Outside, the line at the door had thinned, only a handful of people remained at the entrance. Jon wound his arm around Sansa's hips and pulled her close as they walked. A sweet scent of honey and brown sugar drifted from her skin and he pressed a kiss against her bare shoulder.

Stores were still open even as the time inched toward four in the morning. A store displaying intimate gifts caught his eyes as they passed by. Jon gave Sansa a gentle nudge. "Go ahead of me," he said when she looked up. "I'll take a walk first."

 _"Now?"_ Her eyebrows arched up as she stared at him.

"I'll make it worth it when I get to the apartment."

"It better be since you're making me wait." She turned away with a pout and continued in the direction they'd come from.

Jon waited until he lost sight of her before looking around at the different stores. What to get a vampire who could have anything? Flowers weren't her thing. Perfume? He entered a shop with a bouquet of flowers arranged in a vase, welcoming visitors into the gold and white décor store interior. Neatly arranged glass shelves displayed elegantly curved bottles and containers of various shapes and sizes. Jon followed his nose as it led him pass the floral scents. He stopped in front of a section housing oriental flavors. The air was saturated as each bottle released its own fragrance: vanilla, cinnamon, ginger, peppers, nutmeg all assailing his nose.

He focused on the aroma he liked best, filtering the other scents out until he stopped in front of a berry colored bottle, picking it up and holding it to his nose. It was a dark spicy scent that called to mind a combination of long unwinding nights, hot sex, glasses of wine, and soft skin. "I'll take this," Jon told the assistant waiting beside him.

It was nearing four-thirty AM as he headed back toward Sansa's apartment, the perfume bottle snug in a fancy velvet bag with a tiny bow. If she was in a really sulky mood, he'd give her a nice full body massage before handing over her present.

He grinned.

A weight crashed into him, sending him to the ground, which was surprising in itself. Humans tended to go flying when they crashed into him, like hitting solid brick. Sansa's gift fell out of his grasp, rolling a few feet away in its velvet bag and settling next to a light post. Gum from the pavement stuck to his palm as Jon started to push himself up from the ground, then he groaned as a solid object pressed on his back, digging into it and flattening him against the ground.

"Hello," a voice said.


	21. Chapter 21

IT wasn't a greeting but a threat. The cobblestones scraped a stinging line across his face as Jon attempted to move again and the pressure on his back sharpened.

"Are you stuck? Let me help you with that." A hand buried itself in his hair, its nails digging into his scalp and Jon was dragged to his feet. "Blindfold him."

He caught a peep of a small figure picking up the fallen velvet bag and stuffing it in his pocket before a blindfold was tightened around his face, blotting out his view. Hands grabbed his arms from both directions and the world lurched, the ground disappearing from underneath his feet. A rush of wind ripped at his face and yanked his hair. He'd flashed enough times to recognize it in an instant.

Vampires.

The word exploded like a bomb in his gut.

There were other vampires out there other than him, Robb, and Sansa. Jon had always suspected it in the back of his mind but never expected to encounter one.

The rapid wind disappeared as they came to a halt and his feet were set back on the ground. The jingle of keys rang out then the click of a lock. The fresh air transformed into the manufactured coolness produced by an air unit as they stepped through a door. His feet stumbled over a thick carpet and the hands locked around his arms tightened, pinching bits of his skin as he was pulled along a room; a few seconds later, Jon was slammed down into a chair.

Was he to be a prisoner? Stuck here until noon before they dragged him out and set him on fire under direct sunlight? That was the only way to kill a vampire.

"So." It was the same voice. The air shifted as a figure paced across the floor before stopping in front of him. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

A finger snapped inches from his face, jerking Jon's attention forward. The darkness remained undisturbed. Without warning, the blindfold was yanked off his face, yellow light flooding in from a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

"You intrude on my city and then you kill my baits?"

The man standing in front of him had mismatched eyes, one blue and one black. His black hair was gelled down and he was dressed fashionably in well fitted clothes.

"I hope my appearance is up to your standard." He grinned, his teeth glinting like knives. "Sadly, my clothes won't look this spotless for long."

"Who are you?" Jon asked. A backhand sent his face cracking to the right.

"Rude of me not to introduce myself, but don't speak unless you're instructed to. My name is Euron."

Jon swallowed the rest of his questions down, eyeing the man silently. He was outnumbered and outpowered.

"I had a very good thing going on with my baits," Euron continued. "Do you remember them? Two prostitutes, a blonde and a brunette. They led humans back to my apartment and I was able to feast without getting my hands dirty. And then you . . ."

Jon's fingers snapped with a crack that echoed through his ears as Euron bent them. He groaned as heat spread through the digits; the throbbing causing his teeth to clench.

"Bind his fingers. We can't let them heal too quickly." Euron's eyes gleamed, satisfaction nestled in them. His men rushed to follow his orders, finding a length of string and tightening it around Jon's broken fingers.

The knot squeezed them together, forcing his fingers to remain in the unnatural position, unable to straighten and mend. "You can find new prostitutes," Jon grunted out.

Another blow knocked his face to the opposite direction. "This isn't about them. It's about you stealing something that belongs to me." Euron's eyes flashed as he leaned close to his face. "You're going to learn that I don't like my property messed with." He snapped his fingers at his men.

Another bolt of pain coursed through Jon as a stake pierced his middle. He grunted and fell forward.

Euron grinned. "Amazing. I bought that online, never thought I'll be able to use it. It was mainly decoration until now."

The stake remained lodged in Jon's stomach, keeping the gap open. His fingers had turned stiff and blotted as pain continued to run through them.

Euron sighed as he grabbed Jon's hair and jerked his head up. "I can't kill you right now. I don't want to start a fire and burn my pretty house down, but encroach on my property again and I'll ship your girlfriend a nice pile of your ash once the fire burns out." He nodded to his men and they pulled Jon out of the chair, walking him to the door and shoving him outside.

Jon stumbled to his knees as the stake was yanked out of his stomach. A shock of pain shot up his left arm as his injured fingers hit the ground. The door swung open behind him and Jon spun around. A slight figure shuffled out, a bag clutched in his pale hands. He held it out to Jon.

"You," Jon said. He remembered the small figure disappearing from view as he'd finished feeding on the prostitutes. "You were spying on me in the alley."

The boy handed him the velvet bag rather than replying and disappeared back into the building.

Jon arrived at Sansa's nearly faint from pain. He'd underestimated how the wind pressure from flashing would affect his inflamed fingers. "Knock knock," he said as he pounded on the door. "Open up."

Sansa opened the door with a pout. "You're annoying." Her eyes widened. "What happened to you?" She pulled him into the apartment, her eyes running over him.

"I was ambushed. Where are your scissors?"

She disappeared into the living room and returned with a small scissor.

Jon cut the string off, exhaling in relief as his fingers straightened and mended. The string had been wound too tightly for him to grip it and pull it off. He yanked his phone out of his pocket. "I need to alert Robb." He speed-dialed Robb's number, running his free hand over his stomach to make sure the wound had fully healed as he waited.

"Jon?" Robb picked up.

"Robb. You need to get here. Now."

"What happened?" The intensity in Robb's voice seemed to flow through the phone, charging the air around him.

"Vampires. A shitload of them. They ambushed me and they're not done."

"What? Are you okay? Where's Sansa? Is she okay?"

"We're okay for now. But we can't take them on our own. We need back up."

"I'm on my way." The call disconnected.

"Do you think the three of us together can take on Euron and his minions?" Sansa asked as Jon placed his phone on the table.

"How did you know his name?" Jon's eyes narrowed. "Did you know about them before?"

She chewed her lip. "I didn't know they would attack you."

He studied her for a moment. "You did. And you used me as bait."

"No, I just wanted you to discover them on your own." She reached out to stroke his arm. "What did you do?"

"Is this why you dragged me all the way to Paris? Why didn't you just tell Robb and I the truth?"

"Robb would never have agreed to fight a group of vampires unprovoked. He would have just ordered me to leave Paris. Claimed it's too dangerous."

"It is," Jon reaffirmed.

"I'm not giving up my apartment. I was here first." Sansa glared at him.

"Do you wonder why I can't ever believe you, Sansa?" Jon slammed the velvet bag on the table. "That's for you, by the way."

"Don't be mad at me." She pressed her lips against his, breaking the kiss moments later to press softer kisses across his face. "We'll get rid of them."


	22. Chapter 22

"ROBB is here." Jon clicked off his phone.

Sansa stepped out the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy, white towel. "Has he already checked in? Are we meeting him at his hotel?"

"Yes." Jon stepped into the shoes he'd taken out before the phone rang. "Your little secret has been spying on us. We can't let him find out Robb's in Paris until we attack."

"They'll know something is up." Sansa picked up a lace bra she'd laid out on the bed.

"At least they won't know what we're planning." He smacked her ass as he left the bedroom. "Get dressed before we get delayed." He shot a pointed look at her breasts spilling out of the bra cups as she pulled the clasps closed.

Sansa met him by the front door a few minutes later. A piece of paper fell to the ground as Jon opened the door. He immediately tensed up, scanning the surrounding vicinity, focusing for any shadows or creeping footsteps before picking up the paper. His eyebrows bunched together as he read it: I'll help you – Olly.

"Have you ever heard of a Olly?" He turned to Sansa, handing her the note.

She shook her head as her eyes skimmed it. "It could be a trap."

Jon folded the paper and placed it into his pocket. "If this Olly's not with Euron, then multiple people are watching us." He lay his arm around Sansa's shoulders and drew her close. "Should we go?" he murmured, his eyes ran over their surroundings again.

She gave a nod. "I'm not backing down."

They headed for Robb's hotel. He'd booked into a hotel situated in a popular avenue, where it was easy to get lost in the crowd. As they approached the hotel's front door, they slipped out from among the group of tourists they'd sandwiched between, and into the hotel's alcove entrance. They entered the lobby, moving behind a large statue of two sprinting figures.

"Check," Sansa mouthed.

Jon peered toward the glass doors to see if anyone was looking through it. He moved out of view and shook his head. They waited a few more minutes to see if anyone would trail in before they took the stairs to Robb's room and Sansa pressed the doorbell.

Robb opened the door and waved them inside before closing and locking the door behind them. "Were you followed?"

"Maybe." Jon pulled out the note. "Someone left this in front of her door."

Robb took the note and read it before his eyes settled on Sansa.

"No idea." She shrugged. "We think it's a trap."

"Tell me everything." Robb leaned forward. "How did this all start?"

"Euron's been watching me for nearly a year. He approached me a few months ago. Told me I either join his team or I get lost because Paris is his territory."

"And that's when you came to Winter Town."

"I had to convince you and Jon to come to Paris with me."

Robb looked at the floor as he thought. "We need to get them out of their apartment. Lure them to a secluded spot and set them on fire. The problem is the 'how'. Do we tell him we want to meet at a neutral spot for a mock negotiation?"

"Euron won't meet with us anywhere other than his apartment. His grounds," Sansa said.

"How do we set them on fire without setting ourselves on fire?" Jon crumpled the note.

"Drench them in gasoline." Robb looked up.

"How?" Jon glanced from him to Sansa.

Robb surged to his feet. "Water guns." His eyes glowed as he snapped his fingers. "We shoot gasoline at them."

Sansa's eyes widened.

"That way we don't need to get close to douse them." Jon nodded. "Who lights them on fire if we're firing water guns from several feet away?"

"That part still needs to be figured out." Robb shrugged.

"We need to get going," Jon said after several more minutes of mulling over their plan. "If we're being watched, they're going to search this hotel. Wait a while after we leave, then check out and find a new hotel."

"I'll buy the water guns on the chance they don't know how I look yet. Then I'll take them to my new hotel," Robb said as he walked them to the door. "I'll call you when I check in."

"Be careful. Make sure you're not being watched." Sansa gave him a hug before stepping out into the hallway.

Jon kept a careful eye on the activities carrying on around them as they exited the hotel and headed back into the crowded streets, scanning the passersby and the narrow alleys. He kept Sansa pressed to his side even though she was fully capable of protecting herself.

She broke out of his embrace when they arrived at her apartment. "There's another paper." Sansa picked it up and held it out where they could both read it. "Don't come looking for me, you're being watched – Olly." She groaned in frustration.

Jon turned away from the note to scan the space around them. A movement several blocks away caught his attention. A blur that seemed out of place in the ordinary environment of its surroundings. He took off after the disappearing blur, a feeling of deja vu spreading through him.

The blur barreled down the sidewalks, changing direction as it became aware of its pursuit. It ripped through a busy street, skimming inches away from a group about to step off the sidewalk. A lady cried out as a gust of wind swept past her, blowing up her skirt. The hat of an elderly man blew off and a youngster by his side scurried to catch it.

The figure cut across an alley and Jon pushed himself to move faster. It stopped on a familiar block, pausing for a moment before changing direction, and Jon closed the last several feet between them. He had an inkling of who he would see before he grabbed onto the billowing shirt and spun him around.

The boy's wide eyes stared into his and Jon gripped him around the ribs and headed back toward Sansa's apartment.

The boy looked around as the door was slammed and locked behind him.

"Sit," Jon commanded.

"Are you going to kill me?" the boy asked as he sat on a stool chair.

Jon pulled the crumpled note out of his pocket. "Did you write this?" He held the note in front of the boy's face.

Olly nodded.

"You're helping us by spying and reporting to Euron?" Sansa snarled.

Olly's attention returned to Jon. "Is the new guy on your team? Is he going to help you fight Euron?"

Jon grabbed his collars, lifting him until his feet dangled in the air. "Do you think I'm dumb enough to feed you information?"

"You don't need to trust me but let me go or Euron will know something's up. He'll come looking." The boy's eyes stared back at him.

Jon dropped him and glanced at Sansa. "Go," he told Olly.

"I'm not lying. I will help you," Olly said as he stood up.

Jon didn't take his eyes off him until the door shut behind him. He pulled out his phone and dialed Robb's number. "We know who Olly is."


	23. Chapter 23

JON snatched the piece of paper from the ground. "How the fuck does he know where Robb's staying?" He held the paper out in front of Sansa. "Meet me at the new guy's new hotel."

"Let's go," she said.

They arrived at Robb's new hotel and flashed up to his floor. Olly was already waiting in front of the door.

"What are you doing here?" Sansa demanded, pinning him to the wall.

"I went back to the new guy's hotel when I left your apartment yesterday. Waited for him to check out and trailed him." Olly managed to shrug.

"Who have you told about where he's staying?" Jon took a step forward.

"No one."

The door beside them opened, revealing Robb in the doorway. "What's going on?" he asked, taking in the scene.

"A spy," Jon growled. He grabbed Olly's arm and pulled him inside the hotel room.

"I'm not a spy." Olly shrugged him off. "I'm here to help."

Robb folded his arms. "Why should we believe you're helping us?"

"Because I want to be free. That can't happen as long as Euron's around." Olly looked at each of them. "You guys are getting rid of him, so I'm on your side."

"Sounds exactly like what a spy would say." Jon clapped his hands. "Great speech."

Robb studied Olly for a few seconds before he motioned for them to follow him. He led them to the bathroom and picked up a large water gun laying in the sink. "It's a super soaker. They can shoot up to thirty-five feet and hold twenty-five ounces of liquid. Watch. I already filled it with water." Robb faced the shower and squeezed the trigger. A burst of liquid blew out of the nozzle, pummeling the tile walls. He released the trigger and turned to them. "This will get the job done."

Sansa glared at Olly. "How do you plan to isolate your crew?"

Olly's shoulders relaxed. "I have an idea. Taennchel massif." His hands folded behind his back as he spoke. "It's where we go for our huge feasts to celebrate Euron's birthday. Huge like in a boatload of humans. We isolate them in its forest." His words sped up as he nodded. "It's my job to collect humans over a period of time so they don't all go missing at once. When there's a large enough number for a feast, Euron and his sidekicks come up to Taennchel and we have a buffet." A smile flickered across Olly's face, gone in the next instant. "His birthday's approaching and I've already started collecting, so it shouldn't take long for them to make the trip to Taennchel."

Robb turned back to his water gun. "While you collect, we'll practice our technique." He squeezed the trigger again, a perfect stream of water shooting out the nozzle and landing aimlessly against the wall.

"Shouldn't you practice from a distance on a small object? To assure you can still hit your target? Wouldn't want to shoot gasoline at a vampire and miss." Sansa pulled a water gun out of its package and studied it.

"Thanks for the advice, sis." Robb patted her head and she glowered at him before moving out of reach. His gaze went back to Olly. "You're the only one who can get close enough to set them on fire without tipping him off. That will be your job."

Jon turned on the sink and filled his water gun. "We need a large net to trap Euron and his groupies. Kill two birds with one stone. Set them on fire simultaneously and cut off any chance of escape."

"Where can we hide the net without them seeing it?" Sansa passed him her water gun.

"I can set a trap in the tree and lower it when it's time," Olly offered. His face grew serious. "We can't mess up. We need to get this right on the first try. If we don't kill him . . . He's kept torture pets before, until they were begging to die."

"Makes sense that he's a lunatic." Jon shook his head. "Who celebrates their birthday after passing one hundred?" He picked up his water gun and aimed it before pulling the trigger.

"Hey!" Olly squeaked, jumping back as his shirt was drenched.

"Sorry." Jon waved the water gun. "I couldn't resist."

Robb snapped his fingers. "Stay focused. You can't do things that are going to cause suspicion." He looked pointedly at Jon. "Like a soaked shirt."

Jon didn't attempt to hide the grin on his face as he shrugged and filled Sansa's water gun. "When can you start setting the net?" he asked Olly.

"Tomorrow, if I discuss collecting more humans today with Euron."

"Good," Robb nodded. "Everyone get prepared, because it's about to be game day."

"Remember," Jon said, "as soon as we fire the first shot, drop your net."


	24. Chapter 24

TAENNCHEL massif was the perfect hideaway for vampires looking to indulge in a blood binge. All around them, moss, logs, and shredded sticks covered the ground. The trees were thin, with over a feet space between them, but the gaps offered by the trees were blocked by various chaparral limiting their line of sight. Large boulders jutted up, some stacked over several feet high and located close enough to create perfect crevices to stash large objects. In some areas, the uneven ground levels created slippery slopes, leaving some trails with cliff like drops. The elevation of the forest ground slowly increased as they ascended the mountain ridge.

"How exactly do we find their location?" Jon tugged his gloves on as he glanced around. A low hanging branch smacked into his face, clawing stinging blotches into it. He sputtered, spitting out the bitter, moist leaves as the heat in his face ebbed and disappeared.

"If they're trying not to be found, they won't stick to trails intended for humans or other attractions." Sansa peered into the grove of trees, broken branches, overgrown vegetation, and stone slabs framing the trail.

Jon looked up as the wind moved above him, rustling the leaves and carrying the calls of birds. He focused, closing his eyes and blocking out the sound of small creatures darting in the distance.

Robb paused several feet away, his head cocked as he listened. "This way," he said, pointing. He slung his water gun over his shoulder and took off.

Shattered tree limbs flew into Jon's arms like shrapnel as they crashed through. Bristles burying themselves in the fabric of his clothing. Gaping holes followed their path as vegetation was flattened or torn out.

Jon slowed as his ears picked up the low timbre of voices, their source a mile away. The voices were scattered among the open air and eaten by the thicket as they flashed through the forests. They banked to the right, chasing after the voices until they broke out of the underbrush and came to a stop at the edge of a cliff. Robb held his finger over his mouth as they stared down into the treetops of the trees growing below. Just beyond the trees were the hidden source of voices.

Jon walked to the edge of the cliff and stepped off. The wind gushed upward as he fell downward. The saturation of blood hit him as his feet met with the solid ground. The smell so poignant he could taste it on his tongue. He closed himself off. _Don't ruin the plan. Steady._ He shifted until he was completely hidden by the undergrowth.

The others landed quietly beside him. "Silent, or they will hear us too," Robb reminded, his voice so low it was more a shift of air than a whisper. "We need to move close enough to have an unobstructed shot."

"What's the signal?" Sansa whispered.

Robb raised his index finger. "When I drop it."

Jon adjusted himself until he could get a peek at the scene through the greenery. Several figures were gathered around a makeshift table which was little more than an elevated stone slab on two stone pillars. The surface was already stained dark with what appeared to be blood. Near the pillar support, slumped bodies lay in a pile, grayish blobs against the earthy, moss covered ground.

Euron reached out his arm as a slight figure appeared from behind a pile of boulders, dragging two humans along with him. Olly shoved the humans toward the table before he disappeared behind the boulders and reappeared with two more. Olly repeated the never-ending process until the number of human meals seemed to dwindle.

The boy gave a quick sweep of the area before he melted into the background and started scaling a close by tree.

Robb glanced at Jon as he readied his water gun. "Let's give this fucker a birthday he won't forget."

"He will." Jon locked his grip around the water gun. "A pile of ash can't remember shit."

Robb motioned for Sansa and Jon to prepare as he raised his index finger. Jon tensed, his eyes trained on the figures gathered around the stone table, sitting back casually in blood-fueled bliss. Robb dropped his finger and Jon pulled back his trigger. The gasoline flew out, traveling through the air, closing the space in seconds as it landed on its victims like a liquid net.

An actual net sprung out from among the trees, green and woven from thick ropes. The relaxed vampires sprang up, slamming into the solid braided barrier. Jon pressed his trigger again, coating the trapped vampires with a layer of gasoline.

Euron snarled, his fingers wrapping around the net's entwined fibers, his reddened irises locked on Jon's as he pulled, the small gaps in the net becoming wider.

Sansa shot at the area he pulled, until Euron's fingers slid off the slickened material.

"Start the fire," Jon snapped, glancing into the tree where Olly was hidden.

Euron's burning eyes landed on Olly and the boy's eyes widened as Euron sank his teeth into the braided ropes. The sound of tearing filled the air.

"Watch out!" Robb yelled.

Jon jumped back as a blur sprung through the net, flying toward him. He aimed his water gun and fired, drenching the figure with gasoline. "Light it!" he ordered Olly, before the water gun flew out his hands. It landed on a nearby boulder and Jon was jerked off his feet, the scenery rushing by as Euron flung him.

He landed with a groan, pain throbbing through his side as the end of a broken log spiked through him. Blood welled out of the puncture, spilling onto his clothes and Jon pushed himself to a sitting position. He dragged himself forward inch by inch, the log slicing through him as he unimpaled himself from it. He focused on the scene around him, pushing past the pain filled haze to assess the commotion carrying out around him. Were they losing? Jon shook his head to clear it. Robb and Sansa were in battle with Euron's two sidekicks. Euron was gaining on Olly who had jumped out of the tree.

Jon grunted as he pulled himself forward until the log was fully out. He collapsed onto his back as the wound sealed and the pain retreated. Flashing to his feet, he took after Euron.

The vampire sensed him before he got close enough, he switched directions, heading straight for Jon. They both crashed to the ground, Euron's sharp teeth ripping into his shoulder. Jon slammed his head into Euron's face, liquid splattering down his forehead as a crack sounded near him.

Euron knotted his fingers into Jon's hair, the blood from his nose already drying as he lifted Jon's head and slammed it against the ground. Jon's surroundings darkened for a moment, his head burning as if he'd laid it on a heater. Euron's face was only inches away and yet was hard to make out. He reached out blindly, grabbing at whatever he could reach and hauling his upper body up. His mouth opened, his vision clearing in time for Jon to focus on Euron's pale cheek before his fangs sank into it, tearing the skin apart. He ripped a chunk out with a jerk of his head.

Euron snarled as he wrapped his hand around Jon's throat. The ripped skin on his cheek had already repaired itself. His red irises glowed as Jon clawed at his hand, ripping out shreds of skin. The grip around his throat tightened, crushing his windpipe. Could a vampire pass out if he was choked long enough? Any second he would find out.

"Jon, watch out!"

His eyes flew open as he blinked. When had he passed out? A screech tore through the air. An inhuman howl. His eyes widened and he rolled away from the flaming figure over him. A hand reached out to help him up and Jon staggered to his feet.

"I lit him on fire." Olly patted his pocket, before pulling out a match. He held a lighter in his other hand. "I need to get the others." He took off and Jon followed behind him. Robb was still in battle with his hissing opponent.

Olly picked up a log and turned to Jon. "I need you to tackle your friend and get him out the way."

Jon nodded and flashed toward where Robb was. He slammed into him, wrapping his arms around Robb's torso as they went flying. His ear throbbed as they rolled and slammed into a tree bark.

"What are you doing?" Robb demanded, unpinning himself.

"The little one had a plan." Jon jerked his head toward where Olly stood. He'd lit the log on fire and hurled it. The flaming log collided with Robb's former opponent, sending his clothes erupting in fire. Flames spread through his outfit with the speed of a rigged fuse, and within seconds, he was a figure stuck in a wall of fire.

Jon pulled off his gasoline stained shirt and flung it.

"We need to help Sansa," Robb said, heading in the direction of his sister.

Olly followed, pulling another match out of his pocket.

Robb grabbed his sister, pulling her out of the way as Olly threw a flaming log. The gasoline on the vampire's clothing combusted as the log made contact, blowing the vampire up like a torch.

"Last one down. We got all of those fuckers." Jon pumped his fist.

"We need to burn the bodies." Olly slowly turned, taking in the pile of drained humans.

"Where's my gun?" Jon looked around, spotting a flash of color in the distance. He headed to the boulder where he'd landed when Euron first escaped the net. His water gun was cracked in areas, the plastic broken off, but appeared functionable. He flashed to the human pile, where Robb was rolling the bodies over to ensure they were dead before Jon doused them with gasoline.

"Okay." Jon nodded at Olly once all the bodies were drenched.

"Let's go," Olly said. They flashed to a safe distance where the flame wouldn't reach once the gasoline was ignited.

"I'll do it," Robb said as Olly lit a log. Olly handed him the flaming log, and Robb measured the distance before hurling it. The log landed among the pile of bodies. A boom erupted the quiet as an inferno swept over the bodies.

The sky glowed orange. The fired heated his skin like death reaching for him and Jon stumbled back, nearly falling. Robb steadied him and they stared at the red and orange flames as it crackled and raged. The flames grabbing for everything within reach.

"Where's Sansa?" Jon glanced around, the only figure lingering in the background was Olly as he sat on a large rock, digging the tip of a stick into the ground as he stared at the blaze. "She could have done this without us." Jon wiped a hand across his face as he surveyed the carnage. The smoke burned his eyes and he turned away, retreating toward a moss covered bolder.

"She wouldn't have." Robb shook his head as he trailed after him to sit. "Sansa's scared of fire. Not small ones. Angry, roaring ones. Infernos . . . Our parents died in one, she nearly died too."

Jon turned, searching for Sansa but she was still nowhere to be seen. "Here," he handed his water gun to Robb, tugged off his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket before speeding through the forest.

He heard her before he saw her. The gurgling from an opened throat reaching his ears, and the smell of fresh blood thick in the air. "What are you doing?" Jon asked, approaching her.

"Feeding." She turned her attention to the next human. "Left overs that Euron didn't get to."

"Share." Jon moved closer, until he could rub his knuckles along her shoulder.

Sansa smirked as she bent and drew a line across the woman's neck, dragging her sharp nail against the skin and leaving a scarlet trail. She studied the blood running over her nail polish. "It does live up to its name." She flashed her nails at him. "Blood-red."

Jon laughed. A sharp, quick burst of laughter. "We won." His expression turned serious.

"I know." Sansa licked the blood from her finger. "I was there."

Jon shrugged. "Just checking you're okay. Now move over." She laughed as he lifted her by the waist and set her aside, taking her place as he fed on the woman she'd sliced.


	25. Chapter 25

"NOW that we've got your problem dealt with, I'm heading back to Winter Town with Robb." Jon didn't have any luggage other than the clothes he'd arrived in. His picture was tucked away in his pocket.

Sansa tugged on his shirt. "Don't."

Jon froze. "Don't what?"

She bit her lip. "Don't go now. Stay another week."

They'd spent yesterday celebrating their victory over Euron and his crew. Olly had left a few hours ago. He was spending another day in Paris before heading back to his hometown in Romania. Robb had checked out of his hotel and spent the day at Sansa's, but was now preparing to depart. And Jon had intended to leave with him, but now . . . He glanced at Robb.

Robb shrugged. "Don't forget about me too much."

Jon laughed. "I can't promise that. I might forget your face in a week." He glanced back at Sansa. "Are you sure?" He missed her response as Robb drew him into a bear hug, clapping his back.

Robb released him and pulled Sansa to him. "I'm still mad at you about Margaery," he whispered, before planting a kiss on her head and crushing her in a hug. "You two don't bring the house down." He disappeared out the door with one last wave.

"Why did you bite Margaery?" Jon asked as the door shut behind Robb.

"He doesn't need her." Sansa turned away from him.

"Are you jealous?" She wasn't used to not getting her brother's undivided attention. "You're basically a teenager with an attitude." Jon grinned as he traced a pattern across her shoulder.

"I'm older than you."

"Not in human years." Jon shook his head. "Twenty-one will always beat nineteen."

Sansa turned and glared at him. His grin grew wider as he pulled her close and kissed her.

"You're annoying," she murmured against his lips.

"You've mentioned that before."

"I'm not as evil as you two think I am," Sansa muttered as they broke their kiss.

"You're not evil. Just . . . spoiled." His hand reached toward her but she grabbed it before he could make contact.

"Don't get soft on me. Take that whichever way you want." Sansa dropped his hand and headed toward her bedroom.

Jon followed her. "Why do you really want me to stay? No more hidden murderous vampires that I need to know about?" He threw off his shoes once they entered her room, the boots landing neatly near her dresser.

Her eyes met his. "Because I want you to stay. Sometimes I just say what I mean."

"Then let me say what I mean." Jon stepped forward, until he could tuck an auburn curl behind her ear. "I love you, Sansa. Even if you don't love me back."

"Okay." The softness of her voice kept him from turning away. Her hands lowered to the hem of her shirt. "Show me how much."

Jon took over, ridding her of her clothing. Her breasts sprung out, perky and wanting to play. He sucked her nipples before kissing a trail down her stomach.

Her body stilled in anticipation of something that never came. "Why did you stop?" she groaned.

"We haven't reached there." Jon straightened, returning her glare with a satisfied smirk. "Nuh uh," he told her when she reached to unbutton his shirt. "You're not allowed to touch. Get on the bed."

Her glare melted off, a sulk replacing it as she followed his orders. But anticipation glinted in her eyes.

"Undo my pants," Jon commanded.

She rid him of his pants, leaving him naked from the waist down, and her face-to-face with his member which stood up as proud as its owner.

"I'll be right back." He turned and headed in the direction of her bathroom. Jon grabbed the bottle he'd been itching to try since first catching sight of it, and headed back out to her bedroom.

Sansa lay face down in the middle of the bed, her upper half flat on the bed and her lower half up in the air, her knees spread apart, giving him a good view of both of her holes waiting to be filled. Any sight of her on a bed always brought him to attention, but this brought his body to a critical point of near explosion.

"Naughty." His hands went to his member as he tried to calm it.

"Do you like what you see?" Sansa purred, looking at him over her shoulder.

Jon approached the bed with the oil he'd retrieved. He squirted some onto his palm before placing the bottle on the bed. He rubbed his palms together making sure each palm had a generous amount of oil before he palmed her ass cheeks, spreading them wider as he looked his fill. "You're perfection."

"Show me." She wiggled her bottom against his palms.

Jon steadied her and then held her gaze as he slowly pushed two fingers into her hot heat.

Sansa whimpered, closing her eyes and grinding on his fingers.

"More?" He gave a slight turn of his fingers.

"Yes."

Jon added another finger and then another until all five were enveloped by her tight walls. He thrust his fingers in and out of her cunt until her thighs were shaking and whimpers escaped her mouth.

He slid his fingers out and leaned down, kissing the smooth skin. His mouth drew nearer to her cunt and he chucked as she stilled then nearly shot off the bed as he gave a long, slow lick to her slit.

"Don't stop," she panted.

Jon spread her cunt wide in response, licking, sucking, and nipping until the bedsheets tore under her grip, then he closed his mouth around her stiff clit.

Sansa screamed and pushed him away as her body shook.

"We're not done yet." He drew her back up to her knees and pushed them wide apart.

She moaned as he stroked his length across her slit.

"Tell me how badly you want it," he growled.

Sansa buried her face into the bedsheet, refusing to beg again.

"Hmm, stubborn," Jon tsked. He sent his length plunging into her, grasping her hips to hold her in place as he pounded into her.

"Jony." His name escaped her lips in a stretched-out groan as she climaxed.

He collapsed over her as an orgasm tore through him, flattening both against the bed. "Sorry if I crushed you," he murmured into her hair. He fluffed one of her pillows and relaxed against it.

"Not possible." Sansa turned onto her side to face him and they stared at each other as silence filled the room.

Jon memorized her features, tucking each detail away in his mind: The smoothness of her skin, the softness of her lips, the brightness of her eyes. The silence dragged out and he quickly attempted to fill it. "Should we go for another round?" A grin lifted the side of his mouth.

Sansa smiled and snuggled closer. "Maybe later."


End file.
